You Make Me Real
by vasoline
Summary: Amara always thought the jumpsuits prisoners wore were tacky and unflattering. Surprisingly, it looked good on Curly. She didn't think much didn't look good on him. "Orange looks real nice on you." He cracked a toothy grin.
1. Chapter 1

Category: Outsiders

Title: You Make Me Real

Pairings: Curly Shepard x OC

Ratings: M

Genres: Drama / Romance

Published: Saturday, February 8th, 11pm

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><p><strong>YOU MAKE ME REAL<strong>

_"The power of a glance has been so much abused in love stories, that it has come to be disbelieved in. Few people dare now to say that two beings have fallen in love because they have looked at each other. Yet it is in this way that love begins, and in this way only."_ ― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

**CHAPTER ONE**

The bowling alley was strangely barren. Kathryn, Laurel and her had decided to come here. She has no problem with it, but Laurel seemed to be wishing she was somewhere else. There was a keg party at Anthony Sheldon's house, Kathryn and Laurel were invited but since Anthony's girlfriend was Eleanor Cohan, Amara wasn't invited. No matter how hard the girl tried, Eleanor would not ease up.

She just didn't like Amara.

Kathryn decided that we could just go to the Ribbon and go bowling instead.

"Girls, this blows." Laurel said with a sigh. "Where are all the boys?"

Kathryn laughed at their friend and pointed to the left. There were a couple boys over by the pinball machines in leather jackets, smoking cigarettes.

"There's some."

Laurel scoffed and took a sip of her soda. "Yeah just my type. Poor."

Amara found herself subconsciously looking away then. It wasn't a bad thing to her to grow up poor, she had for quite some time and she still hadn't left working class. But on the west side, if you were poor, you were trash. That's just how it worked, and Amara played along. She looked back over at her friends and giggled along softly.

"You're right, though," Kathryn said. "I'd like to meet up with some nice boys."

Amara nodded. "Yeah, we got all dressed up and there's no one to show it off to!"

Amara had been in high hopes tonight. She put on her favourite dress. It was a very light blue and it was sleeveless. It was the nicest thing she owned and she always wore it when she felt good. It seemed it was put on for no reason this time. They had already played three games and the only people who had came in was other girls who hadn't had not gotten the invite either and the scattered greaser.

"I'm bored." Laurel took another load slurp of her drink. "Wanna go see a movie, maybe?"

Both the other girls agreed and they left the bowling alley.

It was dark now, it had been bright when they arrived. It was getting a bit chilly, too. Winter was just around the corner.

The girls walked for a bit and talked amongst themselves. The Ribbon was a hot spot, so it was crowded as they walked the streets. Cars and people zoomed by.

They made it to the movie house and it was little denser than the alley but it was primarily crowded with greasers and lower middle class kids. A few Soc's she recognized stood by the entrance but that was it.

"That's Heather and Cherry!" Laurel said, leaving her friends and scurrying over to two redheaded girls.

"I'll go see what's playing." Kathryn said a moment later, so Amara was left by herself.

She leaned against the wall of the movie house and stared off at the cars flashing by. She felt herself shiver, it really was getting cold.

Someone came over and stood next to her. She didn't even look over, but she heard the strike of a match and then she smelt tobacco.

"Hey little lady," Said the person next to her. Amara glanced over at the figure next to her. "You're looking good tonight."

He was a greaser, you could always tell by the hair. His was a little different though, it wasn't fully greased back and some of it fell into the guys face. He wore a fitted white shirt and blue jeans and there was a leather jacket hanging off his shoulder.

"Thanks." She muttered back half-heartedly.

"Name?"

"Amara Robinson, yours?" She politely said.

"Curly Shepard."

She'd heard of him, not exactly him, but his older brother Tim. He was the same age as Henry. Henry mentioned Tim a couple times, he knew him because he attended Will Rogers till his sophomore year. He was in a gang.

"Any relation to Tim?" She asked, though she already knew.

Curly looked briefly taken aback. "Yeah, how'd ya know?"

"My brother was friends with him."

Amara didn't miss the way Curlys face pinched up. She knew why, greasers were just as stuck up as Soc's just in a different way. She knew that from looking at her, Curly had pictured Henry to be some pansy sort. Henry wasn't anything like that.

"Whats his name?"

"Henry."

Curly seemed like he recognized the name and he nodded. "Tuff guy."

She nodded too.

Laurel called her name and she said a short goodbye to the boy beside her.

He didn't say anything. Not until she was further away; then he screamed out after her, "Nice dress, dollface."

Amara didn't turn back. Her face heated up and when she looked up and saw her friends' faces on her she blushed even more.

Avoiding confrontation, she said nothing and just walked over to the concession stand.

"What film is playing?" Laurel asked as they waited in line.

"Dark Intruder." Heather said. She and Cherry had decided to join the group.

"It's supposed to be spooky." She added.

Laurel groaned. "Only just another reason to be with a boy!"

They all shared an eye roll at their whiney friend. Laurel was boy orientated, not much else mattered to here. She always needed a boyfriend or she was lost. It was one of her more annoying traits.

"Oh hush up, Laurel ." Cherry snapped, immediately gaining the attention of all the girls. "You don't need a boy for everything."

Laurel stayed silent the rest of the way through the line, and she hardly said a word as we waited for the movie to start.

Amara didn't know Cherry very well. She knew the basics, she was rich, nicer than most, and generous. She didn't have enough to form a solid opinion. She seemed okay.

"I saw you talking to Curly Shepard." Cherry said to Amara as they walked out of the theatre.

Amara felt nervous. "Uh, yeah…"

"That's nice. You see, greasers I think, aren't so different from us." Cherry told her. "I can't tell the others this, they'd just shun me. But you seem like you could understand."

Amara didn't know where Cherry would get such an idea, they didn't know each other and the girl had seen her talk to a greaser once in her life. Maybe Cherry knew who she was, where she came from.

She chewed the inside of her cheek, her only nervous habit and responded. "I understand," was all she said.

Cherry seemed put off by such a brief answer but Amara wasn't exactly sure what to say. She wasn't even a part of the "us" Cherry had mentioned. She was purely middle class. She had no real business in the Soc and Greaser feud, she did agree with Cherry though.

"You don't think it's weird?" Cherry asked further.

Amara shook her head. "No. Why should money define us?"

This seemed like the response Cherry had been looking for and she smiled small.

"It was nice talking to you, Amara." Cherry said as a goodbye. Amara repeated her and went back to Kathryn who was ready to head on home for the night.

All Amara could think about was Cherry's words and that cocky greaser.

**X X X**

Curly threw his jacket over the couch and flopped down on the cushions.

He thought about Amara, she looked so done up and just like those rich kids looked like. But he remembered Henry Robinson, he used to be over here quite a bit. Not so much after Tim got heavily into the gang stuff, but before that Henry would always be up for a drink or a poker game. He was always clad in a t shirt and jeans, just like the rest of them.

Amara was clean cut, in an expensive dress. It didn't make sense in his head. He knew the family had gotten some money, but not enough to even dream of moving to the West Side.

She was a pretty little thing, though. She was teasing him innocently in that tight blue dress.

"What're ya doin'?" Behind him now was his step-dad, Mike. Curly just ignored him.

"I said, what're ya doin'?" Mike asked again.

"What does it look like I'm doin', Mike? I'm watchin' some god damn TV."

He scowled. "Yeah well you shouldn't be comin' home so late, ya hear me?"

Curly didn't take orders from Mike very well, the guy was a dick. Curly didn't have one ounce of respect for the guy.

"I don't got to listen to you," Curly said with a sharpness in his voice. "You ain't my Ma and you sure as hell ain't my dad."

Mike laughed. "Glad I ain't your dad, son. I don't reckon being six feet unders very fun."

That was it. Curly was done being calm. He hated this guy, and had no god damn clue why his mom married this guy.

Curly pushed the man as hard as he could up against the wall, there was a thud and Mike's head smashed against the dry wall. He hoped it hurt.

Curly usually lost against Michael, but he had the advantage since he had caught his step-dad off guard. With one swift moment, he curled up his fist and swung at him with full force directly into Mike's nose. When he pulled away it was already bleeding. That made him somewhat pleased.

But now Mike was furious and Curly no longer had the one up. Michael knocked Curly to the floor and began to kick him repeatedly.

"Ungrateful bastard." Was all Curly could hear over the blows.

He managed to pull himself up and went and punched Mike again, and again and Mike kicked and hit back. Until, they were pulled away from each other. In between the two was Tim, and deathly look in his eye but Curly couldn't make out who it was directed at.

"What the fuck are you guys doin'?" Tim asked.

Curly struggled to get out of his brothers grip but it was no use, Tim was evenstronger when he was angry.

"Just let me at him, Tim." Curly said, rage still inside of him. "Imma kill 'em."

"Bastard was talking dirt about dad, I'm gonna kill 'em."

Tim still ignored Curly and turned to his step-dad. "That true, Mike?"

Mike shrugged. "I dunno," he replied dumbly.

Curly wanted to rip his throat out.

"Go away." Tim ordered to Mike. Their step-dad scoffed at the demand but left anyway. Curly still wanted to tear him apart but he was glad the guy was gone. Now it was just him and Tim.

Tim looked at him like he was stupid. "You gotta control your temper, Curl. This shit ain't gonna get you nowhere."

"I hate him." Was Curly's only defense.

"I do, too."

Curly spit out some left over blood. It hit the light green carpet and was sure to stain. Ma would sure tear into him tomorrow, but he didn't bother to care right then. His ribs hurt and he just wanted to sleep.

Tim left him standing alone in the living room. Soon after he padded up to the bathroom.

He gave himself a once over. His face was red from the punches and there was a couple scratches from Mike's class ring, but it was nothing extreme or unusual. It still mad him mad.

His Ma stuck his head in the door, she didn't look angry.

She silently made her way to him. "You have to stop makin' him angry, baby."

She picked up the cloth that was laid on the side of the sink and attempted to clean off his face.

Curly swatted her away, but was careful not to hurt her. His mother was skinny and fragile. She'd been that way since their dad had died; she had hardly eaten or slept correctly since that. She thought nobody noticed, so Curly, Tim, and Angela pretended they didn't. It wasn't discussed, it was just something they all knew they had to do.

"Ma, he's no good." Curly said roughly. "And I ain't gonna be nice to him."

He heard her sigh and she dropped the cloth. Her eyes were sad and she looked worn out.

"Okay, Curly." She said and walked away. Curly followed her out and just went to his room.

He hated Mike. He hated Mike more than he hated anyone, even more than Johnny Rogers who screwed his old girl and slashed his tires the same day. Mike was the worst thing that ever happened to their family but their mother was naive and ignored all the abuse since he never once touched her. To her, it was their fault. He curled up into his bed. He needed to stop thinking about his god damn step-father.

He turned on his radio and somehow got to sleep.

Orginally posted on my other account. But I think I'm done with that account.


	2. Chapter 2

econd chapter! Reviews please :)

Credit to Jimmy Eat World's "23" for the lyrics.

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><p><strong>YOU MAKE ME REAL<strong>

_I won't always want what I will never have._

**CHAPTER TWO**

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><p>Curly watched out for Tim as he made a deal with some middle class kid. This was the gang's newest thing, selling marijuana and LSD. LSD wasn't illegal in Oklahoma yet it was hard to find if you weren't one of those "flower childs", but marijuana was and if Tim was caught trafficking it he could have two years to life, normally. But now he was selling ten grams of it to a minor, which could get him at least double the years. So Curly was a lookout.<br>"Hey man I just want my fifteen bucks and I'm out of your hair."  
>Curly looked at the other teen. He appeared to be worried. "I only have ten." He said quietly.<br>Tim's face turned from calm, to pissed off. "Alright. Gimme it. I want the other five by next week, ya dig?"  
>The boy nodded.<br>"Good." Said Tim. "If ya don't got my cash by then I'll be lookin' for ya but with the rest of the gang, ok?"  
>"Okay." Replied the boy and then he ran off.<br>Tim came back to his brother and he looked less pleased than when they had first arrived. It seem frustrated which was out of character.  
>"These kids don't know shit about responsibility," Tim harshly mumbled. "You may be a pain in the ass Curly but ya know the meanin' of responsibility. Kids get dumber every year."<br>Curly nodded agreeingly, a second later Tim was gone.  
>The streets were dead. The only people in sight were a couple Negroes and a few kids younger than him, they must have been on the skip. It was a Monday afternoon, couldn't be much past one. Tim always did his deals at times like these; when most people were busy doing something else. It was smart, but it made him miss more school which was never good.<br>His mother didn't have many rules but passing school was a must. He had to get his grade twelve or he was out. Tim had gotten his and ran a gang at the same time, if Curly didn't pass this year he'd be ashamed of himself. But no one would be that surprised, Tim always outdid Curly. He got the hotter chicks, he got the better reputation, and was overall more respected. If he dropped out or flunked, it would not be a shocker. He was trying his hardest not to though.  
>He chose to go into Benny's, the gang usually hung out here if they weren't down in the warehouse or actually attending school.<br>Inside was Dean, Ricky and Steven. Dean was closer to Tim's age, he didn't talk much but he could sure give a beating and when he did talk, it was like ice; cold and rough. Ricky was a year younger than him, he was obnoxious and always had a weed on him; he was a real good business man, though. That's why Tim kept him close. He could get the stuck up priss Eleanor Cohan to drop some acid if he really tried. Steven was a good friend of his, one of the only in the gang Curly actually didn't mind being around. He was right on, and always down for a drink or a poker game. Tim liked him for different reasons, Steven was loyal and took orders well.  
>Curly pulled over a chair and sat outside the booth.<br>"We were just talkin' about ya, man." Was Ricky's greeting. "You hear about Nancy?"  
>Nancy Reynolds was Curlys ex-girlfriend and the only one he ever felt anything for at all. That was a mistake, she was a two-timer. She fooled around on him with Johnny while Curly was stuck in the reformatory for six weeks. She didn't even apologize when he found out, just shrugged. He decided then she was a bitch and nothing else.<br>"What about her?" He said coldly. She was far from his favorite topic.  
>Ricky smirked. "She's knocked up, I tell ya! And not by Johnny, it's Wayne's kid."<br>It didn't surprise him that Nancy had fooled around on Johnny, but it surprised him that it was Wayne Ackerman. That was a good kid if Curly ever knew one, he once got mixed up with the River Kings back in the day and got locked up but other than that everything Wayne did was model citizen worthy. Someone should have warned him about Nancy.  
>"Poor kid." Curly said.<br>"Hey, Benny," He called out to the man at the counter. "Can ya get us some cokes?"  
>The man rolled his eyes. Benny pretended to dislike them all, except Tim. He was always nice to Tim. But either way they all knew was an act, Benny liked them all and even if he didn't, he liked them in here because they boosted his business.<br>"Why ain't you at school?" Dean asked Curly. He'd never admit it but Dean made him uneasy.  
>"Tim needed me for some drug shit." Curly said lowly, not wanting anybody to here outside of their group. There didn't seem to be anyone else in Benny's but he wasn't taking a chance on getting him and Tim caught.<br>"He should've asked one of us. You should be in school." Dean spoke again. It wasn't often he talked to Curly but things like this were important to him.  
>"Eh, I guess he was runnin' late. I'll just go tomorrow."<br>Dean was quiet again but it was easily seen that he was displeased by Curlys answer. Deans jaw clicked and his eyes were misty. He always got like that when he was ticked off. He never said anything about it again though.  
>Tim had brought Curly into the gang stuff since he was just thirteen. Dean was against that all together. He didn't think you should bring your baby brother in stuff like that, especially so young and he had held a grudge over it since. They were seventeen then, now they were twenty one.<br>Dean also said that Tim should have let his little brother make his own choices, not drag him into a certain kind of life. Curly had thought that was funny; he thought it was set from the start what kind of life he was going to have. But he sort of appreciated what Dean was trying to do, it made him feel good.  
>Steven sparked up a cig. "Let's get out of here guys."<br>"Where ya wanna go?" Ricky asked.  
>"I'm hungry," said Steven. "Let's go to that grocery store up the street."<br>The grocery store sold sandwiches, subs, stuff like that. The boys usually walked there from school to eat at lunch, but now it must have been past three.  
>"Yeah, sounds good." Curly agreed.<br>They abandoned their half empty cokes and left.

**X X X**

Amara got to Safeway and she flung the stores ugly red shirt over her pink dress. It didn't look very nice but she hadn't had time to change.  
>"Hey, Mr. Anderson." She greeted her boss. He was Randy's dad but no one had seen Randy for quite some time. He never even graduated, just disappeared. Mr. Anderson was just as pleasant as ever though.<br>"Afternoon, Miss Robinson."  
>Mister Anderson was one of the nicest social elite fathers she knew. The grocery store was on the East Side of Tulsa and she needed a job in order to afford her friends activities, not a single Social ever worked, it would be a give-away of her middle class life. Anderson promised to keep it a secret from his son when she first got the job back when she was fourteen. He had kept it well.<br>She worked over in the deli and hot and ready foods. All she had to do was serve customers and put frozen foods into an oven then and again. It was a slack job.  
>Amara wrapped her long blonde hair into a net and stood at the cash, waiting for her first customer.<br>It was a young woman and her little girl who came to her first.  
>The little girl was precious. She had gorgeous red hair and bright green eyes.<br>"We want two sandwiches please!" The young girl squealed excitedly. The mother smiled at Amara.  
>"And two Pepsi's." She added for her daughter.<br>Amara laughed at the girl's cuteness. "Sure thing, sweetheart." She said.  
>Five minutes later the sandwiches were made and the girls were on their way.<br>"Thanks. Come again!" Amara said to them as she was supposed to.  
>Boys clad in worn leather jackets and blue jeans. She recognized him right away. She realized she had seen him here before but she never really paid any mind to him. Curly Shepard walked into her area.<br>He and three other guys pulled two of the small tables together. Amara hated when the kids came in and did that. The noise went right through her. It also left dark black streaks on the floor. She pretended she didn't notice.  
>"I'll order this time." She overheard Curly say. She hoped he didn't recognize her.<br>"Hey, can I get four barbecue sandwiches with fries and three cokes and a water."  
>"Sure thing." Amara said and rung him up. "That'll be twenty nine cents."<br>On Friday when she had seen him she never paid much attention. Now in bright day light she could see him perfect. He was actually quite handsome. He a pretty golden brown eyes and a crooked smile. There's one thing she noticed that hadn't been there on Friday. He had a bruise over his left eye and a long cut going down his right cheek. She guessed it was from a fight or something, those happened a lot on his side of town.  
>"So you ain't a Soc, huh?" Curly asked her as he counted up his change. It was out of nowhere, she hadn't even been sure he had knew who she was.<br>"No." She confirmed.  
>"Could've fooled me." He grinned widely and she found her heart racing. She had the same reaction when Freddy Wheaton looked at her, the schools stud.<br>"Uh- what do you mean?" She played dumb. She knew what he was talking about; she was fooling everyone.  
>Greasers could bring themselves to be friends with middle class but Socials never brought themselves down to that level, anyone with less money was shunned. But that weekend he had seen her hanging around them and now today he saw her working as a server at the East Side's most popular grocery store. She was a fake.<br>"You know what I'm talkin' about, doll."  
>She smiled warily and nodded.<br>He laughed. "What's so good about bein' one them you gotta fake it?" He didn't seem to be mocking her, he seemed genuinely confused. She didn't know the exact answer. Maybe it was just the way other girls looked up to her and if you were one of them you were automatically popular.  
>"I don't know." She answered finally.<br>"Well," Curly looked back at his friends. "This Thursday, come with me? I'll show ya why it's ok to be poor."  
>Amara wanted to say yes, surprisingly. Something about this guy intrigued her but she knew she couldn't, it wouldn't be right and it could ruin everything she had worked for.<br>"I can't," She declined. "I gotta work that day."  
>Curly wasn't fazed. "When do ya get off?"<br>"Eight thirty."  
>He grinned at her again. "Alright. I'll pick you up here eight thirty on Thursday."<br>She opened her mouth to say something but he had taken his sandwiches and was already half way back to his table.  
>One of the boys in the group looked her over suspiciously. Awkwardly she smiled and he smiled back shaking his head. She was confused but said nothing.<br>The boys left about a half hour later. She never talked to Curly after he paid for the food. He never even said anything when she came over to give all the boys their drinks.  
>He had probably been joking when he said that stuff about taking her out and she felt stupid for taking it so seriously.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

ong: Bruce Springsteen, It's Hard to be a Saint in the City

Review would be nice... :)

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><p><strong>YOU MAKE ME REAL<strong>

_And them South Side sisters sure look pretty;_  
><em>The cripple on the corner cries out "Nickels for your pity,"<em>  
><em>And them downtown boys they sure talk gritty.<em>

**CHAPTER THREE**

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><p>Tim was droning on about something but Curly wasn't listening. It wasn't important anyways, just something about football. Tim didn't talk sports often but when he did Curly tuned him out. It was annoying.<br>Tim hadn't stopped talking about the cowboys or something, Curly didn't follow football at all, but Curly quietly tried to leave without being noticed.  
>It didn't work.<br>"Where do ya think you're goin'?" Tim said gruffly. "I was talkin' to you."  
>Curly groaned. He much preferred when Tim talked about cars or the gangs next activity. Everything he was saying now he didn't give a shit about.<br>"I gotta go get ready." He told him and before he could say anything else, Curly ran up the stairs.  
>He had to pick up Amara in thirty minutes. She was a "high-class" girl it seemed, though she couldn't be above lower-middle class. He still thought he should look good, he couldn't look like white trash and expect and girl like that to get in his car.<br>He re-greased his hair and changed his jeans, the ones he had on were full of dirt. He didn't know if he should throw on his usual t shirt and leather jacket or his plaid button up.  
>"Curly, ya got any cash?" Angela barged into his room. She was done up like a real greasy girl. Her makeup was dark and too much. He hated it when she did that.<br>"No, I don't. Get out."  
>She did the opposite, she came further into his room and looked at his shirts thrown on his bed.<br>"You got a date?" She asked. He didn't say anything.  
>Angel rolled her eyes. "Lose the leather jacket. Put that white t-shirt on and throw the plaid one on over it. Leave it unbuttoned."<br>He was about to thank her but she took the two dollars off his dresser and that pissed him off, so he said nothing.  
>He got dressed and went back downstairs.<br>Instead of Tim in the living room it was Mike. Curly kept walking, he was not dealing with that son of a bitch right now; he was in a good mood.  
>"Hey!" Mike yelled after him as he was leaving. Curly slammed the door.<br>When he got to Safeway his watch read 8:23.  
>Amara wasn't off yet so he decided to just go in. She wouldn't be that busy anyways.<br>She looked just like she had on Monday. She was in the Safeway shirt and had a hairnet holding all of her hair. It honestly confused him, that Friday when he had met her she was dressed to the nines and he had caught a glimpse of her had school the other day she looked the same way. But when she came here she looked like the rest of the common folk.  
>"Hello, doll." Amara looked up and she appeared to be surprised.<br>"You're here." She said in disbelief.  
>He chuckled at her. "Sure am. I told ya I was."<br>She nodded. "I know, I guess I just thought you were joking."  
>"Nope. You ready to go?"<br>She nodded. "I just gotta go give this money to Mr. Anderson then I can leave."  
>"Alright. I'll wait by the doors."<br>Amara didn't take very long, it just seemed like seconds and she was with him again.  
>Curly found it odd when she flung a woman's leather biker jacket over her blouse, he found it odder to see her in jeans. Maybe she was trying to fit the part, since he was taking her out to see how good it was to embrace who she actually was. Or maybe she wasn't as prissy as he had once thought. She looked good like that, he thought. But in a different way.<br>"So where are we going?" She asked as they hopped into his car.  
>He hadn't thought much about where he was going to bring her. It was a Thursday, so Buck's wouldn't be a good idea. He needed somewhere that represented the East Side life though.<br>He decided on going to the Dingo.  
>They pulled into the lot. "The Dingo?" She questioned.<br>"Yeah. Got a problem, princess?"  
>She shook her head. "Not at all."<p>

It was crowded inside and he felt bad. It was rowdy inside, boys yelled across the room and girls danced crazily in the empty floor. People were everywhere.

He couldn't even find a seat. He bribed Mark Jennings with fifteen cents to go elsewhere with his boys.

Mark was a good guy. Tim thought about recruiting him a couple times. But Bryon, Marks best friend, was an asshole. He hated that guy. He was dating Angel and neither he nor Tim liked that all that much. He didn't treat her very nicely and Angel had it bad enough at home, she didn't need to have shit like that happening with her boyfriend too.

"You're real easy on the eyes, baby girl," Mark flirted shamelessly with Amara. "Real cute. What's your name?"

Curly wanted to punch him. Amara smiled.

"I'm Amara. Pleasure to meet you, Mark."

Mark smirked at Curly. Mark did things like this often. Like he said before, Mark was a cool guy. But he liked to get people riled up. Once he had Curly convinced that Nancy had hooked up with him while they were still together, he had been raging then. The guy found things like that funny and Curly always fell for his shit.

"If ya ever get tired of that pussy," He pointed at him. "Give me a call."

He scribbled his number on a napkin in a hurry and passed it to Amara. Mark winked at Curly and left.

He looked down at Amara, she had a sheepish smile on her face and her cheeks were rosy from blushing. That made him angry, Mark got him every time.

"What's good here?" Amara asked him. She hadn't even picked up the menu, a saucy remark was bouncing on the tip of his tongue but he held it back.

"They have the best cheeseburgers." He said instead.

"Alright. I'll have a burger, fries and a strawberry shake."

Curly raised and brow. Most broads him came out with wouldn't eat in front of him, just ordered a water or a soda. He liked how Amara wasn't embarrassed.

"What? I've been at work all afternoon. I'm starving!" She folded her arms defensively. He thought it was kind of cute.

He laughed and shook his head. "Nothing," he said.

After they ate Curly drove around mindlessly through the streets of a Tulsa with her.

"Where we goin' now?" Amara asked. He noticed that since she had been hanging out with him her accent and slang came out a lot more. He liked the way she talked to him better.

"Home I guess." Curly shrugged. "You got yourself a curfew, don't ya?"

"No. My mom's working night shift at the hospital and my dad's dead to the world by now." She informed him with a smile.

"You can bring me home, if you want. I know I ain't like the others you hang out with."

He let out a laugh, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, like I'm not a greaser and I don't swear or drink or do illegal things." She said shyly.

"Now, doll. You must think I'm just some stereotype." He teased with a grin.

"No- I guess, I don't know. But you are Tim's brother."

He hated when people compared him to Tim. He knew he was glaring at Amara and he didn't have the willpower to stop.

"I ain't Tim, ya hear?" Curly was stern and cold.

"I hear." Amara mumbled quietly back.

They didn't spend too much time together after that, she told him where she lived and they drove there. They didn't talk much either. He wanted to and he felt he should apologize but he didn't.

He stopped in front of her house but she didn't get out right away.

He cleared his throat. "Do you want to-... do something again sometime?"

It wasn't an apology but at least it let her know he wasn't still mad at her.

She searched through her purse and found a pen and on the same napkin Mark had wrote his number, Amara wrote hers and gave it to him.

That made him feel a bit satisfied that he had charmed her more than Mark, so much she would just throw away the guys number.

"Call me if you ever want to."

She left after that and he drove away and went home himself.

Mike was nowhere to be seen when he got to his house and neither was his car. That immediately made his night better.

Tim was sitting on the kitchen table with a bunch of papers scattered around him.

He found Tim like this a lot. He was always busy with stuff that involved the gang. He stayed up late most nights and a lot of nights he never even went to sleep. Curly didn't understand it but he guessed that's why Tim was the leader and not him.

It was Saturday and Curly was debating whether or not to call Amara. He was planning on going to Buck's tonight and he said he wanted to show Amara what was good about this type of living. He couldn't think of much more than Buck's. It had dancing and beer and sex. It was different than the Soc's keg and river bottom parties.

He dialled the number from the napkin.

Around nine he picked Amara up. She walked to his truck in a miniskirt. He noticed now she had very long legs. He liked them.

"You better watch out for me tonight." She warned.

On the phone, she had been hesitant to come. He promised her he would watch her and make sure she was all right. She agreed after that.

He laughed. "I will."

"You better."

He passed her a beer and she declined, like he thought she would. Bucks was like it usually was. Smoke filled, with drunk sweaty bodies everywhere. Amara didn't seem to be enjoying herself.

"Curly, baby," It was Nancy. She looked next to him and pinched up her face. "Who's this?"

Amara wasn't the least fazed. "Amara Robinson." She smiled, it was fake but polite.

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Are you Curlys new fling?"

"No. We're just friends." Amara said. Curly wished she would have lied and covered for him. He didn't want to deal with Nancy. He also wasn't going to do anything with her especially since she was probably knocked up.

"Oh. Good." Instantaneously, Nancy became warmer towards Amara.

"Well, Curl. Since your single, care for a dance?"

He really did care, he didn't want to be around her. She was a bitch. He finally felt something for a girl and that girl turned out to be terrible. He didn't want reminders. But it wasn't a question. Nancy dug her long fingernails into his arm and dragged him into the sea of dancing girls and guys.

He glanced back at Amara every now and then. She awkwardly leaned against the bars counter alone.

Nancy twirled him around again and when he looked in Amara's direction, she was gone. He had promised her he would watch out for her.

Nancy kissed him, and Amara left his mind. He didn't want anything to do with this and he pushed her off. He couldn't go back to her again.

"Don't touch me." He said coldly. Nancy just rolled her eyes like she knew he would crawl back to her at some point. That always made him mad.

He walked away from her and started looking for Amara. She was in that short skirt and her shirt was tight. The guys here would go after the fresh meat like wild dogs. Some of them would be harmless, but some would take advantage of a small girl like that. One of the things Curly never would do was rape a girl. He couldn't imagine how anyone could. If someone laid a hand on Angela that way he would kill them in a second.

"Amara!" He yelled but it was useless. The music was blasting too loud for anyone to hear him.

He pushed through sweaty people trying to find the blonde he brought here.

He didn't know whether to be relieved or infuriated him he saw her in the arms of his brother. They danced slowly, and firmly pressed together. He didn't know why, but the sight gave him a weird feeling.

"Jesus, there ya are." He said. "I was worried."

Tim smirked. "Don't worry, Curl. I took good care of her."

Amara laughed and then turned to Curly. "Yeah, don't worry. He was good company."

Over Amara's head Curly glared icily at his older brother, whose smirk just got bigger. He did this on purpose just to piss him off, like he always did.

"I think it's time we take you home now." Curly said but his eyes never left Tim's.

Amara's face contorted into a pout. "Aw, but it was actually getting fun."

Her droopy sad eyes almost made him give in but Tim spoke and ruined all chance of that.

"Yeah, Curly. Why don't you let her stay so me and her can continue our fun?" Tim was a real son of a bitch. He had to get him ticked off any chance he could get.

The jukebox switched over to Elvis's "Hey Little Girl" and Curly grabbed Amara's hand.

"We can stay one more song," He said. "But you're dancin' with me, not my idiot brother."

Amara laughed and gave her eyes a little playful roll and willingly danced with him.

He said it would just be one song but it must have been ten more before he remembered to take Amara home.


	4. Chapter 4

Song: Hometown Blues, Tom Petty

Feedback? :)

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FOUR<strong>

_ All of the girls run with the crowd;_

_They go wild when the lights go down._

_They gotta little money, little in a dream,_

_Wanna be the queen of their little scene._

Amara sat in fifth period math class and listened to Mrs. Barnes nasally voice bore on about cosine, tangent ratio, and sine. Math was her worst subject. She couldn't concentrate in it because it confused her and it was boring.

She spent her classes usually writing various song lyrics on the sides of her pages.

"Where were you on Saturday?" Kathryn turned to face Amara. "You were supposed to come to The Way Out with me and Cherry."

"I was sick." Amara lied. She felt bad about lying, but it was nothing new. She had actually spent all Saturday night at Buck's on the East Side. All night she danced with Curly Shepard.

"Oh, that sucks!" Kathryn frowned. "Freddy was there and the whole time all I thought was 'Amara should be here. They're perfect for each other'."

Amara giggled along with her friend but she felt a little jealous. The one time she does not go with her friends her dream boy comes along. She wasn't as jealous as she thought she would be though; a huge part of her was glad she went with Curly.

"Oh well," Kathryn said. "Are you going to come to the mall with me, Heather, Laurel, Cherry and Marcia?"

She smiled. "Sure, I'll meet you at your locker?"

The bell rang. "Yeah, see you!"

After math, Amara had Biology. On the way there she saw Curly walking in front of her in the opposite direction. On instinct she hid her head and kept walking. She had no idea why, even if she looked right into his eyes and smiled she doubted he would talk to her in school.

Biology was not as bad as math but she wouldn't say she wasn't happy when the last bell of the day rang.

She went to her locker and got her jacket.

When she turned around Curly was behind her.

"Hey." She greeted awkwardly. She discretely glanced around to see who was in the hallway with them. The only person was a freshman greaser kid.

Curly didn't look pleased.

"Oh, so you can look and talk to me now?" He said gruffly.

She didn't know how to respond. Amara had ignored him in the crowded hallway. But she hadn't thought it would have affected him. She doubted he noticed.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't say sorry." His voice was laced with anger. "I'm good enough to hang out with at the Dingo or dance with at Buck's but when there's a chance your stuck up Soc friends might see you can't even look me in the eye."

His eyes glared right through her. "You're just as stuck up and shallow as those rich bitch friends of yours."

She couldn't get another word in because the next second Curly was gone and the only thing she heard was doors slamming shut.

"You're awfully quiet." Laurel said to Amara. "Is something wrong, hon?"

Amara wasn't sure what to say. They would not understand her fight with Curly. Maybe she could confide in Cherry but she still was not sure she could trust her.

"No," She lied again. "I'm fine, just tired."

"You haven't even bought anything!" Kathryn laughed. "There must be something wrong!"

The rest of the girls laughed but all Amara could do was force out a half smile.

She didn't even know why she was so upset. She had known Curly for a week and a half. They didn't have a long background together. But she had had a lot of fun with him and he was different than all the popular rich guys. He wasn't worried about anything like they were, and she liked that.

She should've just smiled at him in the hallway, she was just worried because it took her so long to build up her popularity and reputation that she didn't want to risk losing it.

"I think I'm just going to head home, girls." Amara said as the rest of the girls walked into JC Penney.

"Do you want a ride?" Offered Cherry. She had gotten the bus this morning because she couldn't afford gas. Kathryn had drove her to the mall. No one ever drove Amara home before, she always said no. But she also didn't have money for bus fare.

"Um," She chewed the inside of her cheek anxiously. "That'd be nice."

Cherry smiled warmly. "Alright, let's go!"

They got into Cherry's bright red Ferrari. It was beautiful.

Cherry turned up the radio to a new Beatles song and they drove.

"So where do you live?" She asked. Amara noticed she had her blinker pointing to the road that led to the West side of town.

"Actually, Cherry I live on 234 Elm Street."

Everyone, even West siders, knew where Elm Street was. You had to go through Elm to get to Sutton, which was the street the Nightly Double was on.

"Oh," She said but she didn't sound all that surprised. "Alright."

And she changed her turning signal. As they drove the houses got smaller and darker, then they finally reached her house. It wasn't as bad as others that were near, she wasn't completely on the East side, just was a close distance from being directly in the middle. Her house was small, but it wasn't tiny. It had two floors and three bedrooms. It was also well kept, the coat of paint on the siding was fresh and the garden was nice.

"It looks cozy." Cherry said.

"Thanks," Amara replied shy and awkwardly. She had no idea why she trusted Cherry over Kathryn who had been her friend for six years. "Do you want to stay for supper?"

It was around five and her mom if she was off, always had supper ready by five thirty.

"Would that be okay?" Cherry asked and that sort of angered Amara. She wasn't rich, but Cherry didn't need to look at her in pity.

"Look, Cherry. I may not be rich and I may be just above the poverty line, but I don't need your sympathy." She snapped and immediately felt sorry. She was irritable because of Curly, not Cherry.

"I'm sorry." She apologized right away.

Cherry shook her head. "It's okay, I'd love to stay for supper."

When the girls made their way into the house they were met with Amara's mother.

"Hi, ma. This is Cherry," Her mother shook Cherry's hand. "She's gonna stay supper?"

Her mom smiled at both of them. "Oh, no problem. You know I always make too much since Henry moved out!"

Amara and Cherry went upstairs to her room.

"Can I ask you something?" Amara said after a while.

"Yeah, sure."

"If you were friends with one of the greasers would you be out front with it or hide it?"

This question seemed to hit Cherry hard. She went quiet. A couple moments later, she replied. "Don't keep it a secret. It'll only hurt them and make it worse in the end. Trust me, I made that mistake myself."

Amara nodded. "What do you think about Curly Shepard?"

The other girl shrugged. "I don't really know him, Tim's handsome though. I know he's a hood but that's it."

She was guilty of it herself, but it made her mad that when someone said 'Shepard' it was automatically Tim that came to mind. Curly was equally as important.

"He's mad at me." She told Cherry quietly. "I ignored him today, afraid someone might see. I think he assumes I'm ashamed of him."

"Apologize. That's all you can do."

"You're right."

"But be careful and I'm not saying that because I'm rich and he's poor," Cherry said, a serious tone in her voice. "He's not just a greaser – he's a hood, he's in a gang. That's dangerous territory."

After supper, Amara said goodbye to Cherry and told her parents that she had been called in for an extra shift at the store. Her dad had grunted at that; he still wasn't fully on board with her working. He thought all her focus should be on school; nothing else.

But she didn't drive to the Safeway, she drove all the way to the Dingo.

Inside she looked for a familiar face, one that might know Curly. She saw one, but she didn't know him, he had been with Curly the day they talked at the store. He was the one that had smiled at her.

She didn't waste any time. "Do you know where Curly Shepard lives?"

The guy turned around and laughed. "You're the girl from the grocery store, yeah? Look, I'm sorry if you two fooled around and he was gone by mornin'... but I can't be tellin' ya where he lives."

She rolled her eyes, something she hardly ever did. It made her feel like Nancy. "Look, here. Curly and I are friends and I pissed him off, rightfully so, and now I have to go apologize. Tell me where he lives."

She was stern and she almost sounded bitchy. She never acted like this; it must have been this side of town.

He smiled then, which was odd to her. "Alright, he lives on Opal, the red row house."

"Thanks!" She said and proceeded to run out of the diner.

Opal wasn't a very long street. It was mostly just row houses, but she hadn't found the red one yet. She started to think that maybe that boy in the Dingo had lied to her, it wouldn't be surprising. But then she turned a corner and there it was.

She knocked on the door. When she did she heard yelling inside and she waited a long time on the porch steps. About five minutes later, she guessed, an older man opened the door. He didn't look pleasant. He had greasy hair, but not from pomade, it was natural. His face was sunken, he was sweaty and he smelt strongly of liquor. She smiled at him, though. She assumed this was Curly's dad of some sort, he didn't happen to look like Tim or Curly though.

"What do ya want, miss?" His voice was rough and uninviting. She didn't find herself taking a liking to this man.

"Is Curly here?" She asked.

The man shook his head. "No he ain't, so he shouldn't be sendin' his dumb broads here while he's out."

Her eyes narrowed at him. He had no right to call her that, she didn't even know him.

"Listen here-" She began, but was cut off by a girl, who seemed to be around her age.

"Screw off, Mike." Said the girl. Mike, the man, walked away with an angry look on his face.

"I'm Angela," The girl introduced herself. Amara thought she was gorgeous and she had the most beautiful black hair she had ever seen and striking blue eyes. Tim had those eyes too, but Curlys were brown.

"Amara," She said back. "So do you know where Curly is by any chance?"

Angela smirked. "He's up at the warehouse, by the tracks. Don't know if a girl like you should be headin' on up there. It's kinda a rough hangout."

Amara's brow raised. "I think a girl like me'll do just fine, thanks."

She was tired of defending herself today. Everyone was so stuck up and proud. No one gave her a real chance before they shot off their mouths, not Cherry, not the guy at the Dingo and not Angela. She wasn't some poor girl that needed sympathy like Cherry thought, she wasn't some dumb slut like his friend thought, and she wasn't some prissy defenceless girl like Angela thought. She didn't belong on either side of this war.

After Amara stopped talking Angela was smiling and there was a weird look in her eye.

"Alright, but don't come cryin' if you get hurt." Angela shrugged, all too nonchalant.

"I won't." Amara responded with a glare and she left the red row house and drove until she found the tracks. The warehouse was tucked away behind trees and bushes but there was cars surrounding it. She must have been in the right place.

She got to the door but she wasn't sure if she would knock or not. She decided against it and just barged in.

"Curly!"


	5. Chapter 5

Song: Nickelback, Into the Night

Thanks for the reviews guys! Keep 'em coming :)

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FIVE<strong>

_She had fire in her soul, it was easy to see,_

_How the devil himself could be pulled outta me._

He never once saw Amara as a brave girl. He couldn't do such a thing when she was too scared to even he her actual self and be proud of where she was from. But he must of had her all wrong because there she stood in the doorway of the gang's warehouse.

"Curly!" She yelled and everyone turned to her. He caught the look that Tim gave him, it wasn't an angry one. He almost looked impressed. Curly felt a bit proud of Amara, coming all the way down here and she didn't have the slight bit of fright on her face. She looked determined.

"Curly Shepard." She looked him directly in the eyes. "I need to talk to you."

He knew he still had to act mad at her and it wasn't that hard since a part of him actually was. "I got nothin' to say to you, Amara."

She narrowed her eyes, "Then don't. Just listen, I said I had to talk to you, not you talk to me."

He felt the eyes of the boys on him, wondering what he was going to say to that, he even heard Ricky chuckle. But he smirked. "Okay, doll. You tell me what you wanna tell me."

"Right now or alone?" She asked.

"Right now."

He expected her to back down but she didn't, the girl shrugged and began to talk.

"I came here to apologize," She told him. "I'm sorry for being a... bitch. What I did you shouldn't do to your friends, so again, I'm sorry."

Bitch sounded to wrong coming from her mouth. She herself even seemed to reject the word, once she said it she looked a little worried. Like her mother was going to barge in and wash her mouth out with a bar of soap. It made him laugh a bit under his breath.

"How'd ya find me?" Curly asked with a small grin.

She shrugged again and explained. "I went to the Dingo and yelled at one of your friends, after awhile he gave in and told me where you live. Then I went to your house- your dad was real mean to me but Angela told me where you were."

He was grinning now, for real, so where the boys around him. "You went through all that trouble to come find me and say sorry? I feel special."

Amara smiled. "You should!"

Tim wasn't impressed anymore, he looked stern. The way he looked when he was about to tell someone off.

"You gonna tell anyone about this place?" Tim asked but it was more of a warning. Curly had forgotten where they were, Amara had just waltzed into their warehouse like it was the hair salon. This was dangerous territory, not all the boys were like Curly or Tim. They wouldn't like a girl being here and some of them weren't against hurting a woman, like Curly was.

"No, sir." Amara said. "It'd be none of my buisness to tell."

Tim nodded. "Good. Now you're gonna have to leave. We got shit to do."

"See ya, Curly, Tim, boys." They all gave her a nod goodbye.

"Nah, I'll walk ya out." Curly offered and he saw her lips twitch into a tiny smile. He caught up to her and followed her out.

"This was real dumb of you to do, y'know." Curly said once they were outside by themselves. He didn't actually think of it as dumb, he had really appreciated it.

She sighed. "I know I just had to apologize as soon as possible."

"What brought this on?"

She thought for a moment. "I was talking to Cherry and she said that hiding our friendship was just going to make things worse and I knew she was right. So I went to find you right away."

She didn't look up at him, she just kept glancing down at the grass and she shuffled her feet back and forth.

"Ya told your friends about me?" Amara must of did a one-eighty since he yelled at her.

"No," She shook her head. "I just told Cherry, you know Valance? She's the only who I could see understanding."

Curly nodded. "I'm not ashamed of you, Curly. It's just going to be hard for me if people find out I hang out with greasers and then they'll find out who I really am."

"I guess I was bein' somewhat selfish, too. I didn't really think how it was gonna affect you." Curly admitted to her sincerely. He knew how mean those rich girls could be and it was going to be hell for Amara once they got hold of that she was just middle-class.

"No, it's probably about time they knew anyways. And if they turn on me I got the working class folk." She smiled at him and her eyes looked sad.

"Well, don't do it all at once." He suggested.

"Yeah. Well see you, Curly."

She got into her car and drove off. He waved to her and he faintly saw her wave through her dark windows. Seconds later the car was gone from sight.

He walked back into the warehouse and the boys smirked at him. He ignored it.

"So what're we doin' next?" He asked trying to avoid talking about the Amara incident.

"We're picking up four pounds of pot from the airport. It'll be in a bag labelled 'Ethan Bowles', I had a friend in California who hooked us up." Daniel informed him.

"When's this going down?"

"Saturday." Tim told him. "At four o'clock."

"So who was that?" Ricky was grinning so wide Curly was sure his mouth was going to be sore.

"No one." Curly said passively. None of the boys seemed to be buying it.

"You won't mind if I take a chance on that then?" Tim looked at him mischievously and Curly knew that he was trying to tick him off. "She's awful leggy and she can move."

"Go ahead." Curly said. He instantly regretted it when he saw Tim's smirk. He knew Tim was actually going to make a play for Amara now that he had encouraged it. Amara wasn't the type of girl that should be getting wrapped up in Tim Shepard. But now she was going to have no choice, Tim was going to try his hardest and no one denied Tim when he showed interest in them. It made Curly sick; he didn't even like Amara, he was just doing it to get under his skin.

He just didn't understood why he cared so much.

He looked up at Tim one more time and he had a glint in his eye, the one he got when he knew he was going to win. Under is breath Curly growled.

"She's not going to go for the likes of you." Curly snapped at his older brother. It hardly fazed him, he just laughed.

"She went for the likes of _you_," Tim pointed out with a chuckle. "I'm just you, but better."

Curly was raging then, he swung at Tim without warning. He was sick and tired of being compared to Tim, especially by Tim himself. He hated that Tim thought he could steal any girl from him no matter what and he hated how Tim thought he was more attractive and smarter. Curly had good traits too and was smart and attractive in different ways. He hated being labelled 'the dumb hood' while Tim was acknowledged as being smart and tough. It was bullshit.

While Tim was taken aback, Curly took another swing, this time right for the nose, breaking it for the eighteenth time. Blood poured out of it but Curly could careless.

He didn't stay around for Tim to fight back. He had gotten his satisfaction. He left the warehouse and drove off.

He drove right to Nancy's house. She had called him the night prior, informing Curly it was just a pregnancy scare. Curly had told her where to go and to never call him again. She had just laughed and then he had wondered why. Now he knew. Whenever he was upset or angry he went straight to Nancy.

He knocked on her front door and luckily she answered the door.

"Yes, Curly?" She greeted with a knowing smirk. He ignored it.

"Your old's home?" He asked. She shook her head.

He kissed her then as hard as he could. They walked into the living room and Curly slammed the front door shut with his foot, his hands were busy roaming Nancy's body.

She tugged on his shirt and with one sharp movement, popped all the buttons out of place. His shirt fell of his shoulder.

She began kissing his neck softly and he let his eyes close. After that, everything happened so fast he didn't have time to think.

When they were done, Nancy laid her head on his chest and smiled up at him. He was ashamed of himself. He couldn't just crawl back to Nancy every time he got angry. He was disgusted with himself, Nancy was a girl that didn't care for anyone but herself. This was just a win for her, a knot on her bed post. For him it was a form of refuge, one that he needed to stop.

He shoved Nancy off of him and quickly pulled on his clothes. He didn't say another word to her even though she whined and whined for him to.

When he was in the doorway, he looked at her in the eyes and finally spoke. "This was a mistake."

He shut her front door harshly and headed home.

The only light on in the house belonged to Tim's room. Curly knew what would be coming when he entered the house and he was not in the mood for it.

As soon as the front door clicked closed Curly heard footsteps padding down the stairs. Even from his shadow, Tim's figure was distinct.

"You made a god damn fool of me today, Curly." Tim said. Curly didn't respond. He didn't want to fight anymore, he was tired. Nancy always did this to him. She made him feel good when he was there; when he left he felt even worse.

Tim must of noticed how off he was because he punched Curly only twice, so they were even. Once in the stomach and once in the nose.

It was bleeding like a bitch but there was no large crack, signalling it didn't break.

Curly slowly made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up, this happened probably too much. He didn't even try to cup that blood that poured out of his nose, he let it fall. The carpet was stained anyways.

Curly wiped the blood off him. His shirt was covered in it, obviously going to stain. That pissed him off, all his shirts were stained. He threw it off angrily and left it on the bathroom floor. Tim was such an asshole.

He went to his bedroom after washing up. His bedroom was cold and he realized he left his window open and he cursed himself and shut it. It was cold for Oklahoma, winter was here.

He pulled off his jeans and flung them wherever and got into his bed. It didn't take long at all for him to get to sleep that night.

"That girl was prettier than Nancy," Angela said the next morning as they ate breakfast. "More personality, too. You know what that means?"

Curly had a short temper today and Angel was already testing it.

"No, Angel," Curly mumbled with faux enthusasium. "What does that mean?"

Angel smirked. "It means she's gonna hurt you more than Nancy ever could. I think me and this girl will be great friends."

Curly glared at his sister. She was awfully cherry this morning.

"Screw off." He said and left with his bowl of cereal he didnt have the patience to eat breakfast with his little sister. Just like Tim she liked to get under his skin, she and him were like a team.

A half hour later, Angela came into the porch with a school bag.

"You need a ride?" He offered through his irritation. He may have been pisssed, but he didn't want her walking in the cold.

"Nope," She grinned. "Bryon's giving me a ride."

Curly groaned but left it at that, he just wished Angela would stop dating Bryon. He wasn't good for her.

He grabbed his keys and left.

He didn't see Amara in the hallway, so he figured she was already in homeroom or she was going back on her word and avoiding him. He was going with the first option.

He went to his own locker and he found Steven there, waiting.

"Hey. Sorry, man." Steven said as Curly got closer.

Curlys face pinched up in confusion. "For what?"

Now Steven looked confused. "For sendin' that crazy broad your way. Ricky told me she showed up at the warehouse for godsakes."

Curly let out a laugh. "Nah, it wasn't like that, Steven. She's a friend, you're right though, she must be crazy."

Steven looked up at Curly in relief. "Jesus, ok. Well, she's a got a spark, hey?" Steven grinned something fierce.

"She started hollerin' at me at the Dingo and it made me wanna rip her clothes off."

Both of the boys chuckled. Curly felt a but defensive, though. He didn't like Steven talking about her that way.

"She ain't gonna go for you, you sleazy white trash." Curly joked.

"Ya never know, those good ones, they like to get dirty with the bad boys." He raised a brow. "Or do you already know?"

"No, it ain't like that, man." He shook his head. There was a part of him that wanted it to 'be like that', like Tim had said, she was leggy and could move.

"I'm only jokin' anyway, Curly. I wanted to see exactly what ya two were. Judgin' on the way you reacted she ain't just some friend."

The final bell rang and the boys parted ways.

Amara was at his car after school, which he found an odd sight. She was bundled up in a long jacket and scarf, which served almost no purpose since her legs were bare in a minidress.

"Hello, Curly." She smiled at him. He could get used to being greeted like that.

"How's it hangin', doll?" He returned the smile.

"I'm fine," She replied. "I was just wondering if you could give me a ride to work."

His brow furrowed. "Why can't ya drive yourself?"

"I took the bus," He still looked confused. She had an embarrased look on her face. "I didn't have any gas money."

He sighed. "Get in."


	6. Chapter 6

Song: Ain't That the Way it Always Ends, Tim McGraw

Thanks for the reviews guys! Yehhhok I love you SO MUCH thanks for your long ass review xoxo

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><p><strong>CHAPTER SIX<strong>

_She looked so in__nocent, talking about bein' just friends;_

_Oh, and it don't make a bit of sense._

Amara had been overly surprised when she got a call from the older Shepard brother and an invite to Buck's. Curly she would have expected, but Tim she never would have thought.

She did her hair and slipped into a mini-dress. Tim came and got her just minutes later.

Driving with Tim was noticeably less comfortable than with Curly. Curly always had something to say and he blasted the radio. Tim was quiet and left the radio to just a slight buzz. Amara found herself biting her nails, something she only did when she was bored.

"You look mighty nice tonight." Tim complimented, but it wasn't warm. It was like he was stating a scientific fact, not trying to charm a girl. It made her feel weird but she ignored it.

"Thank you." She replied with a smile, hoping to get one in return. She didn't.

Bucks was exactly like it was the week before. It smelt strongly of cigarettes and alcohol and the music was loud. She liked the atmosphere here, everyone seemed careless and happy as they drank and danced together.

"I'ma go get a drink." Tim said and left her in the middle of the roadhouse alone. The made her feel a bit mad, she didn't even know anyone here and he had the audacity to leave her all alone.

She leaned up against the wall and she felt out of place and just awkward. Couples and groups of friends danced drunkenly around her and she found herself envying them. That's what she thought she came here to do, too. But her date had been gone at least fifteen minutes.

Tim came back about twenty minutes after he told her he was going to get a beer. She knew must of been doing something else too because she knew for a fact it didn't take that long to get a bottle of beer.

In his hands he had two bottles of beer and he offered one to her. She would have felt bad she didn't take it since he had already paid for it. She took it and thanked him. When she took her first sip she was disgusted and she must have made a face because Tim laughed.

"This is terrible," She handed it back to him. "I can't drink that."

Tim laughed at her again. "Sure ya can, no one likes it their first taste. Take another swig."

Amara did as she was told. The next sip wasn't as bad as the first, she guessed it was because she had gotten past the initial shock of the metallic taste. In the fourth sip, she found herself liking the warmth it gave her body. She decided against handing it back to Tim and downed the whole thing.

After several more beers she and Tim headed out onto the dance floor. They danced a lot different than they had last weekend. They were closer and their moves were more sensual. She liked it.

After a few more beers she didn't feel well. Her stomach was uneasy and her vision was blurry. She didn't know who she was dancing with but she knew it wasn't Tim.

She shoved herself off the mystery guy and went searching for Tim, but she was clumsy and dizzy. This wasn't something Amara was accustomed to. She felt scared and she wanted to cry.

She bumped into someone and looked up. He looked familiar. "Tim?"

The guy shook his head. "No, it's Curly."

She smiled sloppily. "Oh, good. Curly, I don't feel all too well."

He laughed but it sounded angry even to her drunken ears. "That's because you're hammered, doll."

"Can you take me home, Curly?" She looked at him with hurt puppy dog eyes. "I don't like this feeling."

Curly didn't laugh anymore and he looked angry. He looked good, though.

"Tim!" Curly yelled. "What the fuck, man?"

Over the music and people Amara heard Tim laugh in response. "What's wrong, Curl?"

Curly glared at his brother. "You let her get like this and then ya just ditch her? She ain't used to this shit."

Tim didn't looked affected. She doubted he was, he didn't care about her. She knew that now. "Ain't my fault she took more than she can handle. I ain't her ma."

Curly looked at the other boy in disbelief and then dragged Amara out of Bucks. Outside she felt a lot better, the cold air made her feel less nauseous and more like herself.

"Why'd ya do this?" Curly asked. She had no answer. Amara had never been drunk before, she only had one drink prior to this. Rum and coke that Anthony had made her at one of the parties she had been invited too. She wanted to try it but didn't see the big deal after she did. That's why she didn't know why she kept taking the beers when Tim kept offering. It was stupid.

"I have no idea," She was upset and wanted to cry. She couldn't go home like this, her dad would kill her the second he smelt the booze. "I'm so stupid."

"You ain't stupid, Amara." Curly's voice was soothing. "This was dumb but we all make mistakes. Hey, I do it every week."

She laughed and wiped the tears. "Thanks, Curly."

He nodded. "Now, c'mon, let's bring you home."

In the truck Amara remembered her ride with Tim. It wasn't comfortable and it was boring.

"You are much more fun than Tim," She blurted out. "He don't talk much or say funny things. He don't seem to like music much, either."

Curly gave her a crooked grin. "Really now?"

She nodded. "He's good looking, but that ain't nothing, you're more attractive, Curly because you're warm."

She wasn't exactly sure what she meant and she wasn't sure he knew either. It made him smile though and she was happy for that.

"You're awful drunk, Amara." He said. She was frustrated by that, she was drunk and she wasn't fully herself but what she said was true and she would say it when she was sober if she had to. She didn't want him to just play it off like she was rambling drunken nonsense but that's what he was doing.

"It's true!"

Curly said nothing and just turned onto Kennedy. Amara didn't want to go home- she couldn't, not like this.

"No, Curly. I don't want to go home!"

"If you don't come home, the cops'll come lookin' for ya and I don't wanna be put in the cooler for that."

Amara shook her head frantically. "I told Ma I was with Kathryn, they probably won't call and if they do she'll cover for me."

Curly gripped the steering wheel tighter and swiftly turned the car around and he started to go in the opposite direction. She noticed that as they were driving he was continuously tapping his thigh. It was driving her crazy.

"Can you please stop?" She asked. Her voice came out irritable and she felt saucy but hadn't meant to.

Curly looked down at his thigh, and stopped the tapping. But not even a minute later it was started up again; it was constant. She didn't say anything this time.

He brought them to his house and helped her in, the cold air had awakened her but as soon as the warmth settled in again she was back to being clumsy and sloppy. She fell a couple times. It was embarrassing and tomorrow she would be bruised for sure.

Inside she was met with the man who had answered the door on Monday and Angela, there was also another woman who Amara assumed was the mother.

"Who's this?" The woman put her hand on her hip and pointed at Amara. It made her feel uncomfortable.

"Amara, ma." It was his mother, she had been right. "She's a friend."

His mother didn't seem to believe his story and rolled her eyes. In the back of her mind, Amara noticed they were blue like the rest of the family.

Mike butted in. His arms were crossed around his chest. He looked like he had several days before but he seemed menacing and more intimidating to her now as his eyes narrowed in Curly's direction. They were like daggers and he made Amara feel slightly unhinged.

"What's she doin' here?" Mike's voice indicated he didn't really care _why_ she was here, just that she shouldn't be.

"Look, she got a bit too drunk and I wasn't gonna leave her there."

"Yeah, well she can't stay here. We got enough trouble with the likes of you." Mike moved his arms and signalled to Angela and Curly.

"You ain't my dad." Curly said. "I don't got to listen to you."

Mike glanced over to Curly's mother and shot her a look as if to say 'tell him what I want you to tell him' the woman seemed conflicted and she stayed silent for a while.

Her eyes caught Amara's and her lips curled down into a tight frown. Amara noticed how pretty she was for her age. She resembled an older Angela, she even had the sharp eyes and the beautiful black hair.

"She can stay. We don't wanna put the poor girl on the streets, do we?"

"She's got a home," Mike said. His icy eyes were now on the mother. "Get Curly to bring her there."

Their mom stood her ground. "It's late, I don't want him goin' out again, Mike."

"I don't give a shit what you want, honey." Mike was yelling now and Amara realized she had cowered into Curlys shoulder. "Send them out."

"No!" The woman said again.

This didn't please Mike at all. He threw the book he had in his hand right at her and it nicked her forehead. The hard edge of the book cut her and she had a splotch of blood pooling out of the left side of her forehead. Her family could be rough and they didn't always get along but this was a different level. She didn't know Curly had it this bad.

"Don't you lay another finger on my Ma, ya hear?" Curly was seething. Amara had never seen him this way, he didn't even look the same. His whole expression animalistic.

"I'll do what I want." Mike walked up the stairs before Curly could do or say anything else. The man didn't even seen to care.

Their mother slowly walked up the stairs after him. Amara could not see how she could do that, go up into the room as if all was normal after he had just harmed her. Amara would have been running.

Angela left, too. She walked down a hallway and disappeared.

Amara turned all her attention onto Curly. He was shaking with anger but she was not scared of him, oddly. She wrapped her arms around him.

Minutes passed and they stayed like that until he was calm. When he calmed down he took her by the arm softly and brought her upstairs. He handed her a shirt of his to wear and they both slipped into his bed.

With any other guy she would have felt wrong and out of place but like most things with Curly, she was comfortable.

When she woke up she was intertwined with somebody else's and her body felt like she had tumbled down a staircase five times.

She unwrapped her legs from the person next to her and he groaned. That's when she realized it was Curly. Last night came back to her in flashbacks and she was suddenly aware this pain was from being hung over.

"My head hurts like hell," She mumbled to herself.

Curly rolled over. His eyes weren't opened yet but soon were forced open when the rays of sunlight washed over them. He groaned again.

"I'm sorry 'bout your head," He said. "I should've got you an Aspirin and a glass of water."

"It's okay." She wasn't really paying attention. Curly's eyes were even more golden in the sunlight. They were the prettiest brown eyes she had ever seen. His body was lean but he more muscle than most of the Soc guys. It was most likely because people actually put their masculine strength to use on this side other than punching out unsuspecting victims. Curly Shepard was the polar opposite of any other guy she found attractive but she still wanted to kiss him.

"Quit starin'," Curly smiled at her drowsily. His voice was still tired and musky. "It's gettin' creepy."

Her ears got hot and she looked away from him and stared out the window.

Curly laid his head on her lap. In that light and the way he was grinning and he had sleepy eyes; he didn't remind her of a hood.

He reached up and with one of his hands, he tipped her head down to meet his glance.

"I was just kiddin', doll." He chuckled. "You can look at me _all_ you want. Boosts the self-confidence, y'know."

She giggled and swatted his hand away. "You're such an idiot."

He just shrugged and turned around so he wasn't facing the window anymore. She followed in his suit, the bright sun and her squinting was making her head pound worse.

"Now isn't this just oh-so-sweet," Angela Shepard smiled at them with extreme sarcasm in her voice. "Ma told me to bring the girl some clothes so..."

Angela threw a pile of clothes onto the bed.

"Make sure to bring 'em back or I'll kick your little Miss Priss ass."

Amara laughed but Curly threw his pillow at his sister. It missed her and just hit the half open door instead. Angela muttered something snide in response.

The two teenagers went back to sleep.

When Amara woke up the second time there was no one beside her and the right side of the bed was cold. He must have left long ago.

She groggily pulled herself out of bed and threw on the clothes Angela and given her. They weren't anything she could see Angela ever wearing, they were something that Amara herself would pick out. She didn't even know why Angela would want them back.

When she picked up the shirt a note fell out and onto the carpet. Curiously, Amara bent down and picked it up.

In masculine looking cursive, the note said: "_Happy Birthday, Angel. Love, Dad._" This couldn't have been written by Mike, all her encounters with him had been terrible. This made her infer that Mike must have been a step-dad or their mother's lousy boyfriend. Their dad must have been special for Angela to have kept this note and the clothes she obviously didn't personally like, let alone want them back.

Quietly, Amara left Curlys bedroom and climbed down the stairs. The house was still and it didn't seem as if anyone was home. Amara went down the hallway in the direction that she vaguely remembered that Angela had walked the night before. She found the only bedroom at the end of the hallway and figured it was probably Angela's. She laid the note on the bed.

Amara flicked through her purse and found enough money for bus fare.


	7. Chapter 7

Song: Johnny Cash,

As always, thanks for the reviews! Yehhhok, I appreciate you so much you don't even know! Keep them coming guys :)

This chapter kind of a filler and some background on Curly. Not much, but enjoy.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER SEVEN<strong>

_I bet there's rich folks eating in a fancy dining car;_  
><em>They're probably drinkin' coffee and smoking big cigars.<em>  
><em>Well I know I had it coming, I know I can't be free.<em>

The drug pick up went well. The only problem Curly had now was, with all the pot they had, all the boys at to play their part in selling. The good thing about pot though was it was big all over. Rich kids wanted some, the middle class came in swarms for it, and the poor kids got it when they could. The hippies were also becoming a bigger fad these days. You can make a pretty penny off this stuff. But that was the good part, the bad part was if any of the boys got caught they could all be thrown in a cell.

A pound of marijuana was three hundred and sixty dollars and the gang had four. The boys had to work hard to sell all of it.

It had been four days and Curly had made one hundred and five dollars. He thought he was doing well.

The guy he was selling to at the moment was a rich kid, named Anthony Sheldon. They decided to meet behind the Nightly Double and he was going to make a big profit off this guy. He wanted two ounces which was eighty dollars. That would bring his total to one eighty-five; he hoped Tim would take recognition of his hard work. Mostly likely he wouldn't. But that's how Tim was, plus they weren't on the best terms since the Amara thing.

Anthony passed Curly the money all in cash and Curly stuffed it in his wallet.

"Thanks, man. Have a good time with that."

The other boy laughed. "Oh you can be sure I will."

Curly was about to turn the corner when he heard her and he decided to stay in the shadows a bit longer.

"Where were you Friday? I covered for you, so you have to tell me." One girl begged.

There was a pause. "Um, I was with a boy." That voice belonged to Amara.

"And you stayed all night!" A third voice butted in.

"It wasn't like that, we didn't do anything. I just really didn't want to leave."

"Aw," The first girl talked again. "That's so sweet, who's the lucky guy?"

"I think I'd like to keep it a secret for now, just to see how things go." Amara said quietly. Curly wasn't bothered this time.

"I can't believe you get a boy before I do," The third voice whined. "You don't even try!"

Curly chose that moment to come out from behind the building. He walked pass the three girls and winked at Amara, she smiled but none of the other girls noticed. He signaled with a small hand motion for her to follow him. He hoped she noticed.

"Girls I have to head to the restroom, you go get seats." She had noticed his gesture.

Amara followed behind him, but far enough away that she didn't seem to be with him. He turned to left and brought her up a staircase. This part of the building wasn't used anymore. It used to have bathrooms but they got taken out after too many accounts of vandalism. It was dusty but other than that it was clean. If he wanted to watch a movie by himself and not look stupid, he came up here and looked at them through the window.

Amara came up the stairs, "Why did you bring me up here..?"

Curly shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess I wanted to talk to you and I didn't think you were ready to do so in front of those rich broads of yours."

"Oh, thanks."

She was really pretty tonight, she always was, but something was different. Her long blonde hair was curled and she was dressed casual; clad in jeans and a Will Rogers school sweater.

"I'm sorry I was such a mess last Friday I got you in trouble."

He shook his head, "Like I said to you, everyone makes mistakes. That's what friends are for, y'know? To pick you up when your stupid drunk ass falls down."

He watched as Amara took a curl and tucked it behind her ear. She bit her lip and he wanted to kiss her. He didn't know when he went from just wanting to show her the wild side to wanting _her_ but it was then he actually noticed the change.

"You look great." He told her after they stood in silence for a minute.

She smiled and it made him feel warm. Sort of how the way rum did. "Thank you."

He took a chance there and pressed his lips softly against hers. He was almost willing to bet she wouldn't respond, but soon her hands were in his hair and she was kissing him just as fiercely.

Abruptly, she pulled away. He saw and dazed look in her eyes and then she looked nervous.

"I-I've got to go." She said. He called out for her to wait but it was useless. She was gone, the only thing telling him she has been there was the clicking of her heels as she ran down the stairs.

**X**

He sat in English class and all he could think about was Amara, not the stupid Romeo and Juliet shit Mr. Saunders was rambling about. He hardly gave a shit about what that old man said on a normal day, now he was surely not listening with his mind on that girl.

It had been two days since he had kissed her and he hadn't heard from her. He caught a glimpse of her in the hallway yesterday but as soon as they made eye contact she turned on her heel and practically ran the other way.

He had called her a few times, she never picked up. It was either left to ring or her mother or father would answer. She left him angry and confused.

He had no sweet clue why she was ignoring him. Curly didn't feel as if he had did anything wrong, he kissed her but he didn't force her to kiss him back, that was her own doing. Her avoiding him was completely immature in his opinion and though it had only been two days he was sick of it.

"Curly would you repeat what I just said for the class?" Mr. Saunders thought he was being clever and that itself was funny. The old man knew Curly wasn't paying attention to a thing that came out of his mouth.

Curly leaned back in his chair and shrugged nonchalantly. He would have kicked his feet up on the desk but that striked him as overkill.

"I can't." He said.

The old man peered at him through the tips of his glasses. "And why not?"

Curly let his shoulders fall again. "I ain't payin' attention, sir."

Mr. Saunders gave him a scornful look and mumbled something about with that grammar this should be his most important class. It got a chuckle out of a few socials but the rest of the kids did nothing more than an eye roll.

Curly gave the room a once over. He always sat by himself in this class because he didn't know a single greaser well enough to talk to. The redheaded rich girl across the room caught his attention. She was a cheerleader, her name was Cherry and Amara had mentioned her a couple times. She had said she was the understanding one.

If he couldn't talk to Amara, Curly thought, he'd talk to her friends.

The bell rang indicating the end of the school day. Usually Curly would run out of the room like it was on fire but he hung back and waited for Cherry.

When she made it to the front of the room, he stopped her.

"Cherry, right?"

"Curly, right?"

Curly grinned. "That's the name. How's Amara?"

The redheads left brow raised. "What's it to you?"

He didn't have time for the games. Really, he had the time but he didn't have the patience.

"Look, she's been ignorin' me and I wanna know why."

Cherry's expression was one of sympathy. "I'd love to help you, I would. But she hasn't said anything."

He would never in a million years admit it but to know she had not said a word about him, not even to the friend she trusted with real stuff hurt him and lost him a few confidence levels.

"She's working from three until eight thirty if you want to go see her."

He smiled at Cherry. "Thanks."

Amara was one confusing broad. He didn't know whether to go to the store and see her or give her space. Cherry had suggested he go see her so that made him think that was the correct choice. But thinking about going there made him nervous, what if she ignored him still or just treated him like a normal customer.

He decided to go to her. If she was still being a brat and ignoring him at least he could sell more of the gangs supply. A lot of boys who liked to get stoned hung out in the tree area behind the Safeway.

She was standing at her counter, biting her nails. She had no customers and there was no one at any of the tables so he had seemingly come at the right time.

She didn't tip her head up until he was right in front of her and her eyes widened and she was immediately flustered.

"Ah, how may I help you?" She said in her overly polite employee voice. He hated when she talked like that and plastered that fake smile that was only reserved for customers.

"Cut the crap, Amara."

Her shoulders slumped and the smile vanished from her face. "What do you want, Curly?"

"You don't answer my calls, you've been avoidin' me... why?" He stared right into her eyes and she instantly broke the eye contact and turned her eyes to the left, as if the soda fountain was extremely interesting. It wasn't.

"I haven't been avoiding you." She lied straight through her teeth. "I've been busy.

"Bull." His eyes narrowed. "How've ya been busy?"

"Well, um, I-"

He cut her off. "Exactly. You're ignoring me."

Her head was now down turned. "I'm sorry. I don't think I can do this."

He scrunched up his face in confusion. "Do what, doll?"

"Be your friend." She mumbled, not daring to even look up at him. The brave girl that had barged into the gang's warehouse was gone.

"Why...?" He asked, still in genuine confusion.

"You're a bad influence. You're hood, a JD, you get in fights and you're in a gang. I can't be around that."

"You were fine with it before." He knew his voice sounded irritated but that's exactly what he was. Last week she had been begging for his forgiveness and was overly willing to be associated with him. It couldn't change just like that.

"You should leave." She replied quietly.

"No problem."

_What the hell was wrong with that girl?_ One minute she's begging to be his friend, the next she's kissing him and then she wants to cut all ties. This is why he didn't get attached to girls, they were all crazy.

He gripped his steering wheel aggressively and did a one eighty turn. The car behind him honked but he didn't care at all he was angry.

He drove a couple blocks and he knew he was way above the speed limit.

He saw red and blue flashing lights behind him and he hit the wheel with full force. Curly pulled over the vehicle and let the cop come to his window.

"Sir, are you aware you were speeding."

Curly nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry."

"License and registration please."

Curly handed the officer his papers and rapidly tapped his thigh.

"Are you under the influence of any drugs and or alcohol?"

"No sir."

The police officer scribbled something on his notepad. "Get out of the vehicle so I can do a search."

Curly didn't move an inch. "Don't you need a warrant for that shit?"

"Usually," Said the officer. "But not if I have reasonable suspicion."

"Which ya don't have." Curly glared up at the cop.

"The only ones here is me and you, kid." The cop widened his arms to point out the empty highway. "Who do you think a judge is gonna believe? Me, a cop or you, a juvenile delinquent."

This was the type of guy that Curly hated. Socials and greasers hating each other, that was reasonable, they were all dumb teenagers. But an adult like this, someone that was supposed to look out for you, taking advantage of his power and greasers lack of, _that_ was what Curly hated.

"That ain't very honest." Curly pretended to be passive. "Ain't it a sin to lie in Gods books?"

The officer smirked. "Never been that religious. Now step out of the car."

Curly got out of the car and internally he was panicking, outside he kept his "I don't care," attitude.

Every second the cop searched his car, Curly grew more anxious. The pot was hidden under the passenger seat and if this sleaze found it there more about two ounces, he could be in the cooler for a long time.

Fifteen minutes later, the cop came back to Curly with only a small amount of pot in his hand. It was in a plastic bag and it couldn't be more than a gram or two. The way it was concealed and since it was such a small amount it seemed as if he was only using pot recreationally, not trafficking it. He'd probably get nothing more than a week in jail time.

The officer left Curlys truck on the middle of the highway and roughly shoved an unwilling Curly into the back of the cop car. He drove them downtown to the station.

"Can I get my one phone call now?" Curly asked the minute he walked through the station doors.

"Go ahead, kid." One of the officers said to him.

Curly dialed his house phone. "Hello?" Thankfully, it was Tim that had answered.

"I got hauled into the station for possession." He got straight to the point. "I need you and someone else to go pick up my truck. It's just a little bit up Route 66."

Tim agreed; he had to. If the cops went back and searched the truck some more there was plenty of more drugs to find. The whole gang would be screwed.

After sorting everything out with Tim, his three minutes was up.

A different cop grabbed his arm tightly and dragged him to the cells. He all but threw Curly into the dark grey square.

"You'll be in court tomorrow." The officer informed him. He didn't speak at all, he just slumped down onto the uncomfortable prison bed.

He was woken up early the next morning and dragged out into the courthouse.

Curly was a minor and only had three grams in total. The judge wasn't harsh on him and only gave him three more nights in the cooler.

He had been put here many times, but it never got easier. The food was disgusting, the bed was hard and the people inside weren't always people you would want to hang out with. If Curly got lucky, there would be another Grease he knew in here but most times he wasn't so lucky. The crowd majority was men older then him who had served more violent crimes.

The first time Curly was thrown in the pen was when he was fifteen for attempted robbery. It had been a dare, his friends had wanted whiskey and beer so they all had dared him to try and steal some from the liquor store just down the street from his house. Curly never backed down from and dare and went through with it.

Curly had stuffed all the boys under his leather jacket he had taken off. The man at the counter had been suspicious of him since he walked was quite obviously a minor back then.

He had forced him to move his jacket and when he did, the man called the fuzz.

Back then, Curly had been so scared. He never said that to anyone though, when he got out he bragged about how cool it was. It had actually been terrifying. Two years later, he felt nothing as he lay in his cell.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for the reviews :)

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><p><strong>CHAPTER EIGHT<strong>

_all you southern girls got a way with your words_

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><p>Amara knocked on the front door of the Shepard house. Curlys mother answered the door.<p>

"Curlys not here," The woman looked at her with disinterested eyes. "He's been arrested."

That shocked Amara a bit since she had spoken to him just two days ago.

"Oh," She said. "Actually, I came here to return Angela's clothes."

She took the clothes and thanked her, then shut the door as fast as she could. Amara sensed that she wasn't liked much by their mother but tried not to let it bother her.

Her mind slipped back into thoughts of

Curly, as it often did. She was making a fool of herself, she couldn't make up her mind when it came it him. She was constantly jumping back and forth on what she wanted from him. It must have been driving him crazy because it was starting to do that to her, too.

Amara was supposed to go to Church with her mom after she dropped off the clothes but how was she going to focus on prayers and hymns when the only thing going through her head was Curly Shepard and that he was in prison.

She wanted to go see him and she felt stupid for wanting to do that. Two days ago she had been telling him to stay away from her. She figured that was just her getting over the initial shock of him kissing her like that. Amara had never been kissed like that before, the furthest she had gotten was just a quick peck on the lips. Kissing Curly was heated and slow and it had overwhelmed her.

Saying that they couldn't be friends anymore was immature though and too final and Amara wasn't sure how she could apologize for something like that since she had never been that impulsive before, something about Curly brought out the craziest nonsensical side of her.

She didn't know how to apologize but she guessed that maybe sucking up to him might win him over.

Amara sat in a grey room. It was boring and the only thing in it was two chairs, a table and a two way mirror. This was the room that they let prisoners have meetings in. It was unfamiliar to her and much too depressing for her to feel comfortable.

Officer Campbell, the one who had brought her in here, walked into the room again.

"He says he don't want to see you, ma'am."

She had expected that from him, so she just smiled at the officer. "Just tell him that I ain't leaving till he gets his sorry ass in here and talks to me. Those exact words, please."

Campbell chuckled and left the room again, two minutes later he opened the door again, this time baring Curly. Amara smirked at that, she knew she could get him in here.

She noticed his lips pinch up at the sides before he forced them into a tight line.

"Thought you was done with me." He sat down and kicked his feet up onto the table.

"I thought I was too, but I was just being stupid."

"Yeah, ya were." He agreed.

Amara searched through her purse and pulled out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes and slid them on the table.

"What's this?" His brow curved up and he smiled.

"A peace offering, so once you get out of here maybe you won't hate me." She laughed half-heartedly. "Plus, I figured you probably didn't have any on you."

"Ah, a cancerstick." He pulled one out of the package and Amara lit it for him. "Thanks."

"No problem, it's worth it." She was being honest. If it helped him get on good terms with her again, she would go buy him ten packs. "So what are you in here for?"

Curly broke eye contact with her. "Ya know, stealing, the usual."

She rolled her eyes. "That's a bad habit, Curly."

He nodded in agreement and took another puff of his cigarette, calmly he blew out. "But so is smokin' but you just assisted me with that one."

"True."

Amara always thought the jumpsuits prisoners wore were tacky and unflattering. Surprisingly, it looked good on Curly. She didn't think much didn't look good on him.

"Orange looks real nice on you."

She hadn't meant it as a joke but Curly cracked a toothy grin.

She tried to imagine one of her social guy friends in here. She couldn't quite see it. They would be disgusted by the attire first of all and they would not be able to keep as calm as Curly was being. He was smiling and smoking at ease, as if this was the movie house or the Dingo. Freddy or Anthony would be off their heads; rightfully so, she couldn't see the people in here taking a liking to them.

"Why'd you run away?" Curly asked, bringing up Wednesday night. Amara had thought she had gotten lucky and he wouldn't say anything, but it turned out she wasn't all too lucky.

She couldn't figure out how to explain to Curly why she had run away from him. She had a feeling he would laugh at her.

The clock ticked and everything else remained quiet, as if waiting on her answer. It made her more nervous than she had been in that start.

"I've never kissed a boy like that before."

"What do you mean?"

She never answered his last question. Officer Campbell came in once again and told them their time was up.

Amara muttered a fast goodbye and left. She hoped when he got out this topic wouldn't be brought up again. It was embarrassing.

"Amara can you set the table?" Helena, her mother asked as the second she took a step into the house. The dinners at the Robinson house were usually casual, everyone grabbed what they wanted and then they all ate and watched a TV program together.

Tonight was different, Henry was home and they were having a dinner with the family and his friends that had stayed in Tulsa.

Amara obliged. She went to the kitchen and grabbed the placemats, glasses and utensils.

"'Bout time you did something 'round here." Aaron Robinson appeared in the dining room, already looking at Amara with a less than pleased expression.

Most of the time, she ignored her father when he said things of that nature to her but that one bothered her. Amara did lots around this place, she cleaned anything her mother asked her to and did all the laundry as her regular chore. All he did was work his nine to five, then come home, kicked his feet on the coffee table and watched football games until he was passed out and snoring. Amara helped out the best she could in between school, friends and work.

"Dad, I always help out 'round here." She turned to her mother. "Right, ma?"

Helena gave her daughter a stern glance. She hated getting involved in Amara's and her father's fights.

"Yes, Mar. You help quite a lot." She then went back to her cooking and her father left the dining room, no doubt in the direction of the living room to watch television.

An arm was thrown around her shoulder. "Ah, home sweet home."

It was Henry. He had not changed much since she saw him in July. He had a bit more scruff around his face and he had lost some of his tan. He was still as warm and as happy as ever though.

"Not even in the door five seconds and I've witnessed an infamous Amara and Dad argument."

She grinned. Her brother was the person she was closest to in the family. He was twenty one, five years elder, and he was away studying at NYU. Henry wanted to be a lawyer. Not one of those high end ones either, he wanted to support kids who didn't have much. He said most lawyers that got appointed to lower class kids didn't care about them. Henry said he wanted to make a difference for them. Amara had always admired that about him.

Henry ruffled Amara's hair as if they were kids.

"Shockin' news, but I've sorta missed ya, Mars."

She hugged him tightly. Amara had more than "sorta" missed her brother. She always missed him when he left, he had been gone five months and the house was never the same without him. It depressed her to know they'd most likely never live in the same house full time again, but that was just growing up. You had to move on and let go.

"I missed you tons," She admitted and Henry was smug. "So, who's coming tonight, huh?"

Henry sat in one of the chairs and slumped back his shoulders. "Not sure, I think Dean and Tim, Eric Wheeler, Stephan Wheeler, Ronny Douglas, Rebekah, Lisa and Margret, my girlfriend."

Amara had the slight suspicion Henry would invite Tim. She didn't want to see him after the incident at Bucks. She knew it had been her own fault but he had played a big part in it. Since then the thought of him rubbed her the wrong way. Also, girlfriend was news to her. She had never heard tell of Margret till that moment. It seemed their mother didn't either.

"Girlfriend?" Helena said with an excited expression. Henry had always been a guy to play the field. Each time he got a girlfriend their mother hoped he'd settle down with her.

"Yeah, Ma." Henry appeared to be very happy, Amara guessed this girl was one of the good ones. "Margret, we've been seein' each other for a while. Thought I'd bring her to meet the family.

Margret was the first to show up out of Henry's friends.

She was beautiful, but Amara expected no less from Henry. She had light brown hair that almost looked red. She had blue eyes and was timidly sweet.

When Tim showed up supper was already started. Amara didn't even take her eyes up from her food and politely greet him like should would have with anyone else. She had nothing to say to him.

He pulled out the empty seat that was next to her. She gave him a sour look; he grinned slyly. She knew it was partly her fault but he was the one who had brought her there and offered her the drinks. He should have at least taken care of her or brought her home safely. Amara cut up her meat and out of the corner of her eye, glanced at Tim again. Something about him was unsettling. He was the type of hood she could see people fearing. Henry's and his friendship just didn't make sense.

After supper Amara cleaned up the dishes and said her farewells to all the guests. Margret didn't leave, she'd be staying with us all of their Christmas break.

Tim left last. She saw that as fitting, since he was the last to arrive. He waved a goodbye to Henry and winked at her. That just made her want to push him down the porch steps. He was cocky.

She ignored her impulses and smiled at him.


	9. Chapter 9

Song: The Kids Aren't Alright - The Offspring

Any feedback? :)

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><p><strong>CHAPTER NINE<strong>

_now the neighborhoods cracked and torn;_

_the kids are grown up but their lives are worn._

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><p>For the first time in his life when Curly stepped into the stations lobby he saw his mother waiting for him. She was dressed in her Sunday best; she had a red dress, a long dressy coat and even had pantyhose and heels. After their dad died it wasn't often she dressed like this. She only did the scattered morning she attended mass. Which, with Mike controlling her, was hardly ever anymore.<p>

Something special must have been going on.

"Curly." She said. She scribbled into a notebook, obviously signing him out. She was using her "stern mother voice" that Curly never took seriously anymore. You couldn't respect someone like his mother had turned into.

"Hey ma." He grinned as if he had never done anything wrong a day in his life.

He figured out shortly after that his mother was dressed to the nines because they had a meeting with the principal.

Principal Stevens was one of the only staff at the school Curly liked or respected. He treated the kids as if they were human and not lesser than him. He was funny and he always had a remark when a student sassed him.

Sitting in his office today wasn't the same as usual. It was gloomy and he could tell bad news was going to be told because Stevens's lips were pressed into a thin line.

"As I told you on the phone, Mrs. Shepard-"

"Rhoads." His mother corrected. Curly gritted his teeth.

"Mrs. Rhoads, I apologize," Stevens gave his mom one of those polite teacher smiles, that Curly knew from various past experiences actually meant you were irritating as hell. "As I told you on the phone, Curly is failing English."

He wasn't shocked but he wasn't aware of this either. He knew he did crap in that class but he figured he must have had a fifty five or something.

"_Also_, if he misses nine more days of classes this year, he will not be able to pass even if he has the grades."

That was what hit Curly hard. Nine days was nothing. Tim would probably have him skip nine days just the rest of this month. He couldn't fail, this was his last year.

"What's my mark in English?" Curly brought himself into the conversation.

Stevens frowned and Curly prepared himself. It shocked him that he was doing so bad.

"Thirty nine, Mr. Shepard."

_Thirty nine_. That was eleven marks from passing and it was a week before Christmas break. That meant there was only half the year left to get his grade up that much. That half the year included midterms and finals. There was absolutely no chance of him passing.

"Is there any tutors that could help him?" Mary Rhoads looked like she had just lost her husband all over again. "He has to pass sir."

"I'll check."

Curly felt uncomfortable in the office seat. It was red, itchy and hard. Also, his mother was staring at him as if he had just killed someone. She was strict on school, always had been. That's why she hadn't seen a report card since sixth grade.

Stevens shuffled through files a long time and then slid back into his desk.

"There's only two tutors eligible to tutor Curly." Principal Stevens turned the folder around to show them. Curly knew both the girls.

"Eleanor Cohan or Amara Robinson."

Automatically, Curly knew he was going to pick Amara. Eleanor was a bitch who liked to show off her money, and Amara and him were on good terms now since they had a meeting while he was in the cooler. He really had appreciated that, no one else had ever come in to see him other than Steven or Tim.

"Amara." Curly said without a second thought.

"So Amara Robinson it is then?" The Principal was now eyeing his mother who looked displeased.

"No." She said. "He will not study with that girl. Eleanor Cohan it is."

Curly's blood was boiling. He had no idea why his mother hated Amara but he didn't care. There was no way he was spending two afternoons a week with Eleanor Cohan talking about English. She was the most stuck up, arrogant girl he had ever met.

"No, Ma."

"Amara does have a higher average than Eleanor." Stevens informed them and Curly silently thanked him for helping him out. They both knew how Eleanor was, she didn't accept people lower than her. Studying with Eleanor would be tortuous. He was not even sure it would be worth passing if he had to spend some quality time with the richest bitchiest girl of the school a couple times a week until June.

"Eleanor it is." His mother's voice was cold and held a sense of finality. Principal Stevens and Curly pushed her no further. Eleanor it was.

Eleanor had refused to study with Curly at his own house, no matter what Principal Stevens said, she was completely against making frequent trips to his side of town. So every Tuesday and Thursday Curly had to go out of his way and drive into her side. Every time he entered he would stick out like a sore thumb.

Tim was also displeased with the tutoring and not to forget that Curly couldn't miss much more school. But there was nothing he could do; Ma had set down the law. Curly was not allowed to skip off or miss tutoring. This put a halt on the gang's sales and he could no longer be Tim's right hand man, since he wouldn't always be available. Tim was furious.

Today happened to be Tuesday and he was on his way to Eleanor's for the first time.

Her house was probably eight of his. The Cohan's were the richest folks in the city, he was sure. They also owned one of the oldest plantations.

Curly drove up their long driveway, the house was almost completely hidden by trees. As a kid Curly always dreamed of living on of these. The houses were always huge and they had so much land. It would be great for a game of hide 'n' seek or tag. That dream never left completely, but he was now realistic. People like him never got to live in places like this.

Curly knocked on the door and waited. A petite black lady opened the door. She seemed to be in a uniform, a maid was his guess.

"Are you the boy Miss Eleanor's tutoring?" She asked him.

"Yup."

She opened the door wider and let him in. The house was even nicer on the inside, it had the highest ceilings he had ever seen and hung over his head was an expensive looking chandelier.

"Miss Eleanor, your visitor is here." She yelled up the long, spiral staircase. He wondered if Eleanor appreciated any of this.

"Send him up to the library, Celeste."

The maid, Celeste, started the climb the stairs and he followed. They walked down a long hallway and she stopped at two large wooden doors and flung them open. Inside was rows and rows of books, a couple sofas and a desk. He saw Eleanor at the desk with papers and books opened, and another chair pulled in front of it. Celeste left and he went and sat down in front of Eleanor.

She didn't even look up at him. "Get a pen and paper, we'll start your essay."

Begrudgingly, he did as he was told, when all he really wanted to do was leave.

Three hours ticked by and Curly had three pages written on that dumb play he couldn't care less about.

Eleanor had it in her perfectly manicured hands and she read it over. Every so often she would look at him in disbelief, as if he was the stupidest thing she had ever seen. He was exactly right about her. She was stuck up and rude, nothing else. As soon as he walked in her nose turned up at him and he had caught the look she gave him when he sat in her pricey white chair in his dirty jeans. He wondered how in the hell she had a boyfriend – she must be good in bed, but these types of girls usually were. Eleanor laid down the paper.

"Well," She said. "It's not terrible. You should never use contractions in formal writing, and you should never use ain't or any other slang. This essay would probably get you a sixty."

"And if I don't use contractions and slang, what would I get do ya think?"

She shrugged and looked at her nails. "Probably between an eighty and an eighty five."

She wasn't the best company but she did her job well. An eighty plus would do him real good.

"Anyways, times up. See you on Thursday, Grease."

He ignored her crudeness and left the plantation. An eighty, if dad had been alive an eighty would probably earn Curly a pack of cigarettes and a coke and he would for sure hang it up on the fridge like that cliché goes. Their dad was tough, but he always was excited when one of his kids succeeded in some way and always wanted them to feel good about it. He'd slice anyone that messed with him wrong but when he came home, he'd do anything for his family. That's what Curly wanted to be like.

Curly entered his house to hear screaming, coming from his mother and Mike. It had been like this since he threw that book at her. It seemed that when it hit her, she came to a realization Mike wasn't as good as she had thought. Ever since, the house had been a warzone. He wanted to come home even less, but he always did. He thought he never had to worry about Mike hurting his mother or Angela but now after that incident he hated to think either of them were alone with Mike. So, he always came home whenever he could and if he didn't, Tim did.

Curly walked right into the battlefield; the kitchen. His mother and Mike were heatedly arguing right in the center of the room. Mike saw Curly and screwed up his face.

"Aw, here he is." Mike said. "The most worthless, good for nothing of your children, Mary."

His mother looked furious. Though the arguing was irritating, he liked that his mother was almost herself again. She was standing up for her own and she was showing emotion, even if it was anger.

"Curly works hard and he cares about his family. That's more than you can say."

That did not go over well with Mike. "What the fuck? Works hard? He ain't got no job, honey. I'm the one that pays all your god damn bills and looks after these youngsters."

Curly did not want to be involved in this shit right now, he grabbed a coke from the fridge and headed to his room. He was surprised to find Angel there.

"Hey, brat."

"Hey, Curly."

She looked as if she had been crying. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy. But if she had been, Angela obviously didn't wanted Curly to be aware of it. He pretended he didn't notice.

Angel sat on his bed with a box. It was small and blue, he knew what it was. It was the old photo album from when they were kids. Ma had kept them all under his bed for storage ages ago. Angela had a couple pictures just laid out on the bed. He glanced at them; they were all of her and dad.

"I hate Mike." She said and it was soft. Not like her usual harsh and sarcastic self. "Why would dad just leave us?"

He had no idea what to say to that. He had no idea why their father had to die, it was bullshit to him. His family hadn't done anything too bad, nothing so bad they deserved to have a guy like Mike raise them.

"Angel, I don't have a sweet clue how to answer that question," He told her honestly. "But we both know dad wouldn't want ya in here sulkin'. It'll all be okay."

He wrapped his arms around her and she sunk into his chest. It was a sweet moment but the next day they both we pretend it didn't happen.


	10. Chapter 10

Song: High Roller - Cheap Trick

Reviews please? :)

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TEN<strong>

_Jump in my love car, don't have to go very far;_  
><em>Just far enough to show you a thing or two<em>

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><p>Social boys turned into idiots once kegs were brought out. Amara was finally invited to one of the parties, despite Eleanor's distaste for her. That girl got her way a lot, but Amara was happy when she occasionally didn't. Again, the party was held by Anthony. It was Friday, December 17th, and Christmas break just started. Anthony was always threw big blowouts for special events like this.<p>

"Chug! Chug!" Boys chanted as Freddy Wheaton ducked under a keg and drank as much as he could. Some overflowed and spilled all over his face and onto the floor. She didn't find him as attractive as she did a couple weeks ago.

Social girls stumbled around and clung on to boys they hardly even knew. Amara wondered how they could spend all day ranting about greasers girls who got drunk and fooled around and then come to things like this and do the exact same thing. One of those girls being Laurel.

That girl wondered why none of her relationships lasted but they all started at parties like this with her clothes off. Boys couldn't take a girl like that seriously, they just used her for fun until she got boring or clingy. Laurel would never understand that, though. She would still just throw herself at whoever showed interested. It made Amara a bit sad, Laurel had good intentions.

Right now, that red head was hanging off David Manson's Madras clad shoulder, giggling as he almost paid no attention. Even if Laurel was not the brightest girl Amara knew of, she was beautiful. She had curly bright red hair, and freckles in the right places. Quickly, Amara would name her as the prettiest girl she knew.

Heather Manson stood awkwardly next to her brother and her friend. Amara was about to walk over and save her, when a boy joined the three and threw his arm over Heather's shoulder. Her gesture didn't go unnoticed though, Heather smiled at her.

Amara's eyes drifted from her friend and fell onto the clock. It was eleven-oh-three, she was supposed to meet Curly at eleven thirty.

"Here a soda." Kathryn passed her a plastic cup.

"Thanks."

Anthony and Jimmy Dawson came over to the pair. "Hey, you girls want to go burn some greens?"

Amara had heard of kids smoking marijuana, and she knew Kathryn and Laurel had tried it. Kathryn had said she liked it a lot, Laurel said it was trashy. Her parents even gave her a pamphlet about it and gave a whole speech after one of their friends' kids turned into a 'damn hippie'. She had never touched it.

"Of course, Ant." Kathryn hooked Amara's arm in hers and they headed into the Sheldon's backyard.

The four of them stood in a square and Jimmy took a cigarette looking thing out of his pocket and flicked his zippo to light it up. The scent was weird to her, it didn't smell anything like a cigarette. It was nice, sort of.

The other three took their puffs, which were all followed by coughing and then the joint was passed to her. She took it but froze for a second. Jimmy urged her on with his eyes and Amara put it to her lips and inhaled. She repeated that four times until she coughed.

At first she felt nothing and that disappointed her.

It wasn't until it was five minutes to eleven thirty and she was making her way to her car that she felt any different. Everything seemed slow and she felt lighter, happier. For a brief second she was against driving all the way to Opal to meet Curly but that thought was left her mind as fast as it had entered and she drove.

Driving was weird. Things passed slower and the lights seemed way too bright to be normal. Later on she would be thankful that it was late and not full of traffic. Also, the radio DJ seemed a lot funnier than usual because she had never laughed at his tacky jokes before tonight.

It seemed like forever before she reached the red row house but when she looked into the clock as she pulling into the drive away it was only eleven thirty-seven. She beeped the horn and Curly's figure made its way to her car and got into the passenger.

He smiled at her but she watched his noise scrunch up and he looked her over.

She laughed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It smells like pot in here." He said, still looking at her. "Your eyes are the colour of my house."

She laughed again and he shook his head. She didn't notice the frown. "Amara, are you high?"

"Well I don't think so," She told him. "I did try some of that, pot as you call it, but I don't think it worked."

He chuckled but even to her ears it didn't sound happy. "It worked. You drove all the way here?"

She nodded.

"That was fucking dumb," He sighed. "Switch seats with me, doll."

"I'm _fine_." She whined. She didn't know why Curly was acting this way. She didn't feel that much different than usual, she could defiantly drive.

"Switch with me." He demanded in a voice that reminded her of Tim that time she showed up at their warehouse. It was a voice of authority and even as her dazed self she listened to him and climbed over to the passenger seat.

They drove around quietly and he stared straight ahead the whole time.

"I'm sort of hungry, Curly." He didn't say anything.

"How'd ya get the drugs?" He asked her, ignoring everything she had said.

"Anthony Sheldon asked me to try it. I wasn't sure I wanted to but Kathryn said it was cool."

"Anthony Sheldon?" He did not seem as upset anymore, well not at her. "Goddamnit."

She was confused. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Let's go get you some food."

"Everything's closed." She said but he didn't seem like answering her tonight.

They drove and he didn't talk, it was like when she drove around with Tim. She was uncomfortable. She shifted her mind to the radio; she didn't feel as light anymore and things weren't as bright. Her head had a small throb and she was even hungrier.

Curly pulled into a parking lot of a small building. There was only two other cars there. The sign above the door read "Benny's Billiards", she had never been here before or even heard of it.

Inside was a couple pool tables, four booths, and a long counter equipped with bar stools. Behind the counter was a frail, lanky man and in one of the booths was four men who looked to be in their twenties. She was out of place, this was obviously a men's hangout and not just men – but greaser men.

"Johnny, Steven, Wayne, Ricky," Curly greeted them all. Steven was familiar to her; he was the one who gave her directions to find Curly. "Benny, can you get me a coke and a burger and fries for the lady?"

"Why'd you bring some dumb ass Soc here, man?" Johnny stared at her in disgust but it didn't bother her, she had expected it as soon as she realized where she had been brought into. "This is our place. They can't have this to."

"Fuck off, Johnny." Curly said from behind her. In the back of her mind she remembered Curly telling her that he didn't like this guy. She didn't think she was going to either.

"He's got a point." Said another of the boys. She was pretty sure it was Wayne.

"You're just kissing up to Johnny because ya screwed his girl." That came from Curly. "Now, shut your traps. She ain't leavin' no matter what you lot say."

Curly pulled up two chairs and told her to sit down. The guys started to talk like normal again but she still got a couple glares from Johnny. Benny came over with her food not too much later.

"Why'd ya bring her here anyways, man?" Steven looked over at Amara and she shrunk back, feeling some awkwardness rush over her. She wasn't as bold right now as she had been that day at the Dingo and thinking about her yelling at him embarrassed her slightly. He didn't seem to mind. He grinned at her.

"We were s'pposed to hang out, right?" Steven nodded. "Well this little lady shows up at my place high as a kite. Eyes were red as my house, I swear. We go for a drive as planned, then she starts complainin' she's starvin'."

Curly stopped his story to send her a dirty look. "So of course at 11:30 nothing sensible open, so I brought her here."

Ricky gave her an amused glance and then looked back at the boys. Ricky seemed to be the youngest out of all of them. He still had the leftovers of his childhood babyfat and she couldn't even hardly see peach fuzz on his face. The other boys also seemed more intimidating than him, excluding Curly, who was no longer that way to her. Ricky was also the younger brother of Eric Wheeler, Henrys right hand man. Eric was never involved in gang activities though, just like Henry when Tim started doing that stuff, Eric split. Ricky seemed to be all for it.

"Makes me sick, that stuff does." Johnny was staring right at her again. He had black eyes. She didn't like them. "If my girl ever tried that shit, I'd kick her right to the curb. I ain't just talkin' a little pot either, she tries anythin' other than booze or cigarettes, she's gone."

His attitude surprised her. No one she knew minded it all that much, Laurel thought it was trashy, but she wasn't totally against it like Johnny was. Amara thought it was just accepted nowadays since the hippies started getting bigger in society. She wasn't all for the hippie lifestyle; coke, LSD, heroin and that 'free love' stuff scared her but this never had. Seeing it made a big deal by someone other than her parents was odd. But it wasn't just Johnny, all the boys surrounding her seemed like they weren't for it, even Curly.

"I dig you, Johnny." Ricky butted in. "My mama told me that shit gives ya brain damage."

The four other guys rolled their eyes.

Shortly after Curly decided it was time to leave. They got back into her car and drove. It was dead now, it usually was at one in the morning.

He stopped at the park this time and drove the car on top of the bank. There was a lake on the other side of the hill and the other side was just the playground but from her frontal view it was a beautiful sight. She knew he didn't take her up here to be romantic, though. That wasn't him.

"You're the worst kind of person." He flicked off the radio and his eyes were flashing an even brighter gold. He was angry at her but he had no reason to be. "You just do what people tell you to do, to fit in. You aren't yourself."

His hands dropped from the wheel and his fists curled, "You lose your strong accent to be proper, you don't use slang because the people you want to be like don't,

"You dress like that because that's what they do. You do whatever they tell you to do."

Amara was not easily angered; she hardly ever got mad at anyone. But _Curly Shepard_ saying to this her was rich – because he had just described himself. He was just as bad as Amara for not being himself.

"You're the exact same way! You fight because Tim tells you to, you're in a gang because that's what your brother wants, you skip school because Tim wants you to, and you pretend not to like movies because Tim thinks they're stupid. You even say you don't like the Beatles – but last time we went for a ride but you sang your heart out to _Help_."

She was rambling so much, she forgot to breathe. Out of the corner of her eye, she took a glance at Curly. He still appeared angry. "So don't tell me to 'be myself' until you do the same thing."

It was quiet after she stopped talking, she could hear herself panting and Curly's short breaths. She switched the radio on again and laughed when _Help_ was what was playing. Curly did, too.

"I kinda do like the Beatles." He told her with a grin; she returned it.

"I kinda didn't like getting high."

"Good, because I wouldn't want you turnin' into one of those potheads."

He leaned over her and tucked her curls behind her ear. She smiled at him shyly and he closed his eyes and kissed her.

She wasn't nervous like she had been in the old drive-in building. It wasn't foreign anymore, she knew what was happening.

His lips were warm and they made Amara's body feel like the beer had at Buck's, but even nicer.


	11. Chapter 11

Song: Leather Rebel, Judas Priest

LOVE ALL MY READERS. LOVE ALL MY REVIEWERS. YEHHHHOK I MISS YOU.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ELEVEN<strong>

_leather rebel, with a burning heart._

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><p>"We're out." Ricky said and all the others left in the warehouse followed in suit. Now, the only ones left were Curly and Tim.<p>

Curly had been waiting for this since they got here. He didn't want to try and talk to Tim in front of all the boys, it was intimidating enough with just Tim.

"What do you want, Curl?" Tim was giving him a stern look but the usual glint of amusement was in his eyes.

"I don't dig sellin' dope, man." He confessed. "I ain't me. Y'know I don't like this shit."

"Any of this got to do with bein' thrown in the cooler?"

He wished that was it because he felt like a real idiot for wanting to stop this because of Amara. It wasn't even his fault – but he felt guilty because Curly was almost exclusively Anthony Sheldon's dealer. He knew a bit was dope wouldn't do much to hurt but once that buzz isn't enough they all go for something heavier, that's what happened to Nancy. It was a riot to hear Johnny talk about how he would ditch his girl if she touched any of it. Nancy was shooting up before Johnny even hooked up with her. She started just smoking doobies, then that was not good enough, so she started snorting cocaine. Now heroine was her main squeeze. That stuff was heavy. Even if Johnny hadn't taken her, they probably would have been over, or probably not because Curly was weak.

"Nah, man. But I hate it, you know what happened to Nancy."

Tim nodded. "But this ain't about Nancy, is it? That girl, the prissy one you always court around. It's about her."

His natural response was to pick up for Amara but he was already in trouble with Tim, it was not going to help if he started correcting him.

He still wasn't sure why he even brought this up. He had been doing it for a while, but with Amara coming to him high he realized that him selling alone was bringing in new people. It was good for business but not good for the conscious. If Amara ended up like Nancy the weight would be on him.

"You know I need the money," Tim told him. He was frustrated looking. Curly knew that was because of him. No twenty-one year old wants to be dealing with their idiot younger brother all day through. "You do, too. You wanna be relyin' on good 'ol Mike? Or you could go get a real job, but who's hirin' delinquents?"

Curly said nothing.

"Exactly." Tim said; there was a smugness in his voice. "Plus, I'm dealin' with some stupid ass Tigers sellin' on our territory to our customers. If you back out, they pretty much win. So you in or you out?"

He didn't want to give Tim the satisfaction of being right but there seemed to be no other options. Curly was either with Tim or he was stupid. Now there was also that heavy reality that Curly had nothing else – no one was hiring delinquents.

"I'm in." If Curly thought Tim was smug before, he hadn't seen anything.

"If you want my advice, drop her." Tim went to a shelf and pulled down a duffle bag. Curly knew what was in there: guns. He had no idea why the drug thing was bothering him so much when he had just been informed of tonight's activities.

Curly had robbed places before, he did it on a regular basis. But he had never held a place up. Amara was making his brain fuzzy, she wasn't what was important. This, the gang, was important.

He had kissed her – and he liked it, it liked it a lot. She hadn't stopped him this time either. It had gotten heavy, but not too far that she was an obvious easy lay. It was nice. But girls didn't get you places. They made you weak and then they hurt you and the prettier their faces were, the more it was going to pain. Nancy had thrown him off his game once and it got him thrown in the cooler just for not paying close enough attention to Tim's orders. That was just for robbing twenty dollars out of the cash register at Will's Drug Mart, unarmed.

Tonight, four of Tim boys, including Tim would walk into 'The Way Out' each with their own gun and demand money; from the cash register, the workers, and the rich kids who would pay them out of fear. Tim had done something like this before – when Curly was fifteen. Tim told him he was too young to participate, and he probably was. This was a first time for Curly. Drugs were the least of his worries.

"Ya gonna focus or am I gonna have to put Ricky in instead of you?" Tim was hinting at the same thing Curly had just been thinking about. Nancy.

"I'm good, man." Tim nodded and sparked up a weed.

"Alright, now let's go meet the boys, yeah?"

The Way Out was packed with the richer kids; from the outside he could see them sipping on milkshakes and laughing with each other, though nothing they said was ever really funny. The lot had all kind of expensive cars and if they stole even one of those they could make a pretty penny off the parts. Curly would mention that to Tim later.

Tim, Dean, Steven, and Curly stood outside in masks; loaded. James Holt kept watch by the street light and Don Briggs stood nonchalantly under the diners neon sign; he watched for James signal and would warn the other four boys if there was any sign of cops.

All the boys were calm and had done this before, minus Curly. But he put on his brave face and acted as if he did this every day of his life because this was what hoods did. He wasn't going flake out.

Tim barged in first, he was the leader. He whipped out his heater with no hesitation and pointed it at various kids.

Curly fumbled for his and pointed it with a surprisingly steady hand. He was sure it was going to shake.

"Give me your cash and no one gets hurt." He was the first to speak. He held out a grey sac and gestured for people to throw money in it. He saw the other boys do the same at different parts of the restaurant.

The people inside were quick to hand money to them, they were obviously afraid. Girls had screamed and boys had held them tight, trying to be tough but the fright was evident in their eyes.

"Give me your goddamn money, girl." He heard Dean say roughly. Dean was in the back of the diner but the joint was dead silent now so Curly could hear everything the boys did. The only other noise was the shuffling and heavy breathing of their now victims. Dean stood over a booth; there was two girls and two boys.

He knew the blonde Dean was harassing and his stomach dropped.

"I don't have any, sir. I'm sorry." She was meek and polite. Curly had no idea how she could be that way under the circumstances.

"Bullshit. You people always got tons on ya," Dean was his usual cold self. "Hand it over."

He watched Amara dig into her purse to search for money. He knew Dean had no idea that the girl in front of him wasn't pouring out money from her ears but he was still irritated by his lack manners to her. But there was nothing he could do; he hoped she didn't recognize his voice.

"I really don't have any, I swear." She sounded for fragile now; almost scared.

Dean fired a warning shot at the wall and everyone in the whole place jumped. There was no doubt in Curly's mind then that Dean would hurt her if he needed to.

The blonde started digging again; faster this time. She took out a smaller bag, he assumed it must have been a coin purse and pulled a couple coins and bills out of it. It couldn't have been more than three dollars.

He felt like shit because he knew she had worked hard for that money and it was all she had. He still stayed silent, he would not help her, he couldn't. He turned away from her and continued to pry money out of the rich kids around him.

Don banged roughly on the glass windows and the boys scrambled. Outside they could hear the sirens and they were getting louder fast. James had the car waiting and running in front of the door and all the boys jumped in it. The drove off with innocent people's money in their hands.

Curly was sure they would get caught, but he always thought the worst. The six of them got to the warehouse without a hitch. They hadn't even seen one police car.

The boys dumped all their winnings onto the table and Dean counted it since he was the only one with the patience to do so.

Curly sat on the floor around the table and thought about Amara – why had _she_ been there of all people? It pissed him off. He had told himself he was not under any circumstances going to think of her tonight and there she was, taunting him by being at the diner. It was like she just knew how to get under his skin and shake him up without even trying. She had almost got in the way tonight, she made him question what he was doing and that was dangerous. This is who Curly was, the gang and its crimes. He couldn't be questioning his morals now, he was too deep in. But when he saw her there; Dean shouting at her, he wanted to stop him. If Dean had tried to hurt her, it was almost a fact that he would have dropped his act and helped her. That just wasn't right.

Tim didn't approve of her and he was seeing now that he was right, like Tim usually was. Girls would just mess him up. Nancy had, Amara was probably going to, too. Curly was naïve to think otherwise.

"We got three hundred and three dollars and fifteen cents." Dean told them after what seemed like forever. That was a lot; they did well.

Curly switched his mind off Amara. He remembered his plan about the cars.

"Hey, Tim." Tim looked at him and arched a brow; his signal for Curly to continue. "I was lookin' at those nice cars in the lot and I was thinkin' what if we stole some and sold the parts? We could make a fair bit of money."

The other boys had expressions of surprise. "You thought of that yourself?" James said; as if he thought Curly was the dumbest kid on earth.

"Yeah, I ain't that dumb, man."

Tim looked impressed. It wasn't often he looked at Curly that way. He knew Tim thought he was stupid and sometimes he agreed but he wasn't an idiot.

"That's actually a smart idea, brother." The boys all laughed and Curly grinned along; he was proud too, though he'd never admit it.


	12. Chapter 12

I decided to post because its my birthday and I'm happy (though I have to work, Happy Sweet 16 to me).

Thanks for the favs/follows/reviews guys!

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWELVE<strong>

_he's a rebel and he'll never ever be any good;_

_he's a rebel because he never ever does what he should._

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><p>"You okay, sugar?" Jimmy asked. Amara didn't know what to say. She should be scared. She should be shaking like all the other girls. She had no idea why she wasn't. She hadn't been immune to the fright the others had been in; she had been scared as hell when that man had been hollering at her, swinging his gun around. Now, she did not feel scared feel scared at all.<p>

Maybe it was because she knew the guy on the opposite side of the diner. She had tried to pretend she hadn't made the connection but she had. It was obvious now to her that it was him; his loose, curly, raven-colored hair fell from the back of his hat, his overly tall lanky figure – but it was the voice that made her realize. The voice that was always sarcastic and full of humor. Inside the diner his voice had been mean, cold and dangerous as he told the people inside the restaurant to give him money. It had hit her now how much of a hood he really was. He wasn't just a greaser, he could be dangerous. Amara had somewhat always known that, but now she had saw it. It made him different now.

"I'm fine." Amara told Jimmy and he grinned widely.

"Good, let's go?" His smile didn't leave and he threw his arm over her. She had said she was fine, but she appreciated the gesture.

"Yeah." She hadn't been paying attention, her mind had been clouded with Curly. Now she clued into her surroundings. "Where's Freddy and Kathryn?"

He shrugged and continued you to open up her door. "They left around ten minutes ago."

"Oh." She said. She wouldn't let it bother her – it's not like she and Freddy had a thing. She had always just had a big crush on him since she was twelve. But that was it – a crush. They didn't mean much; it was all okay. She would get in this car with Jimmy and she would get over it.

"Thanks for the ride, Jimmy." She said politely. He waved her off and she slammed the door shut.

Inside her mother was already waiting, alongside her brother. Helena Robinson was frantic and when she saw Amara, she wiped the tears from her eyes. Henry wasn't as extreme, but he still wrapped her in a hug.

"I was at the corner store when some guys were talkin' about what happened at the Way Out," Henry told her, she could hear the relief in his voice. "I'm glad you're okay, Mar."

She cuddled into his arms; she was glad he was home.

Amara didn't realize she was crying until her mother pulled her gently into a hug. She could now see Henry's light grey sweater was now black where her head was laying. She wiped her hands across her face. Her finger tips were black, stained with mascara.

"I'm sorry about your shirt." It was a nice one on him. It was new, too. An early Christmas gift – now it had unwanted black stripes.

"Shut it, Mar." He smiled.

Mom ruffled her hair. "You okay, my baby?"

It was perfectly alright. There was no harm done to her. She had lost $2.50 in total; that was nothing. She was okay.

"Yes, ma. Just a bit shook up."

She nodded and squeezed her tight. "You go wash up and get to bed. Rest."

She made her way up the stairs and into the bathroom. She looked like a wreck. Her hair was flat and frizzy, and her cheeks had black runs. She had puffy bags and blotchy cheeks. She was mess.

The shower felt nice and calming, the heat was relaxing. It made her stop thinking of Curly. It was disappointing to _see_ who he really was. She had known it all along. She wasn't clueless like she wanted to be. Curly Shepard – it was in his name, he was a hood. It just took him to prove it to her for it to set in. He was bad news.

He had watched someone hold a gun to her head and didn't even flinch. That was not a person she needed to be around.

Even after the shower, that was bothering her. She was curled into her sheets and wide awake, a mind full of thoughts.

She never stood a chance with Freddy, she had always known that. It didn't upset her as much as she thought it would. But Curly – she thought maybe they had a shot not just romantically, that wasn't the issue. She thought they could be something. That thought itself now was silly. She had had a better chance with Freddy Wheaton than Curly Shepard. He wouldn't want her either; he was thug. He was the next Tim. She was timid and meek.

It wasn't until Henry laid down next to her and curled his arms around her that she drifted off to sleep. At first he had tried to talk to her, but she was not quite sure what to say. She wanted to tell him how frightened she was to have a gun to her head but she didn't want to worry him and she couldn't say a thing about the Shepard's, he would just lecture her on staying away. She already knew that. So, instead they went to sleep.

The next morning was suffocating. Her mother was anxious about everything. Even Amara walking to the corner store to get milk like she had done every day since she was ten. Helena sent Henry instead. And when she asked to go to the mall with Cherry and Heather, she could see in her mother's eyes all that woman wanted to do was tie her to a chair and make her stay. She probably would of too, if her father hadn't butted in. Surprisingly, he was agreeing with her. He thought it was best if she went to the mall. The glare her got from her mother was fierce but Amara was happy to get what she wanted.

The mall wasn't too good. She liked Cherry and Heather well enough but it was exciting.

"You girls want to go to a drag race?"

It was something different. All these girls usually did was bowl, party and go eat out. A drag race was thrilling. Buying clothes was not.

Heather's brow shot up the second it was out of Amara's mouth. "Aren't those dangerous?" She bit her lip, "And it's not really _our_ people that go there…"

She smiled warmly up at Heather. She really did look nervous. Heather would stick out like a sore thumb at a drag race but no one would be paying attention to that. The boys all worried about what greasy girls they could chat up or who was going to win the next race. The girls were too caught up in themselves and their next date. There might be a couple whispers but that would be the gist of it.

Amara would stick out, too. Amara had only been to one race. She had been ten. Henry and Eric Wheeler had brought her along. She had been ecstatic – one: because she was seeing a drag race, and two: Eric had actually seemed like he wanted her to come. She had thought he was cute when she was younger. It had been fun and she wanted to go to one ever since but Henry never invited her again and after that she was too worried with being rich and popular.

She had everyone believing her lies now. She might as well have some fun.

Heather still looked nervous; her fingers rapidly tapped the table but she saw some excitement in her eyes and Amara knew she was in. "That kind of sounds fun… What do you think, Cherry?"

Cherry shrugged. "It's different. It could be fun."

"Let's go." Said Heather.

Behind the Ribbon was an empty paved road. It was most likely commercial land that would be filled up with stores and diners at some point, but now it was the perfect stretch of asphalt for teenagers to use for drag races.

The three girls stood out. If the greasers were white, they were black; they contrasted completely. Their hair wasn't as high, they had little to no make-up on, and their skirts were below the knee.

"I hope no one sees us." She heard Heather whisper to Cherry. Heather had nothing to worry about, if a Soc saw her and Cherry here they would think "fitting in with the poor," was a new trend. It was Amara who was risking anything if anyone was.

"Who's racing now?" Asked Cherry. She didn't know why, it wasn't like Cherry knew any of these people.

"I'm not sure, I'll ask someone."

"Be careful." Heather advised. It would have made Amara mad if it had been anyone else; but Heather wasn't being snobby. She genuinely thought the greasers were dangerous. "You don't know what these people will do."

Amara pushed herself further into the crowd and searched for someone she knew even the slightest bit. She would have a better chance of getting an answer out of them if they knew her, if they didn't they would probably just give her a look over and walk away.

All around her greaser girls laughed too loudly and snapped bubble gum while boys touched them a little too much and cursed wildly.

The only two people she could recognize was Angela Shepard and that guy from the Dingo. There was another guy there, too. He had his arm around Angela.

"Hi," She felt awkward. She had only talked to these people once.

Angela's eyes drifted over her with judgement. It made Amara fidgety. She already knew Angela thought she was better than her.

"Oh, hi." She finally said. She still made Amara uneasy. "Did Curly invite you?"

"No, I was just wondering if you knew who was racing…?"

"Ricky Wheeler and Steve Randle. Ricky's in blue and Steve's the red." The guy from the diner answered for her.

"Thanks…" She had forgotten his name.

"Mark." He chuckled. "Don't tell me you forgot my name already, sunshine."

Amara laughed nervously. Angela rolled her eyes and snapped her gum.

"Do you want to tell Curl you're here?"

She did not want to see Curly tonight. Not after last night. It made her anxious just knowing he was here and there was a great possibility of running into him. It wasn't a guy to be around or even _want_ to be around.

"No." She let her eyes wander and look for him. She didn't want to stay and have a run-in with him. "Please don't."

All she got was a shrug from Angela but that was good enough for Amara. She walked back to the girls. Some guy was hitting on Cherry. From what she could hear it wasn't the type of flirting Cherry was used to.

"Hey, sorry I took so long." The guy left then. Amara thought it was because he must of felt out numbered.

"Gosh, that guy was terrible." Heathers cheeks were flushed. "I couldn't believe how vulgar he was being with her."

Cherry didn't comment on it. "Did you find out?"

Amara nodded. "Ricky Wheeler and Steve Randle. Ricky is blue and Steve is in the red car."

The girls moved up closer to the strip to get a closer look. Some girl waved a flag and the two brightly colored cars roared down the road.

She heard his name and begrudgingly glanced that way. She locked gazes with him and her stomach dropped. Yet again, she had caught him in the middle of something she wished she hadn't saw. But this wasn't something she could really be angry about; it wasn't her business that he wrapped around some girl and it was getting heavy. She still didn't want to look at it. She shook her head and turned away. She was convinced she was made about how laid back and happy he seemed to be, like he didn't have a care in the world. She didn't know how she expected him to be- but seeing him like this seemed wrong. Amara thought maybe he might just be bothered in the slightest about the other night.

"I'm just going to go up on the Ribbon and get a drink and redo my make-up. I'll be back."

She didn't wait for either of them to ask to join her. She didn't want them to. She wanted to get far away from Curly, but she did not want to ruin their fun.

He was horrible. He was a hypocrite. He was dangerous.

She went into Rusty's and bought a Coke and sat at the bar by herself.

"What's your problem, huh?" His voice was rushed and harsh. She could tell just from him standing behind her he was drunk. She could smell it.

"I don't have a problem." She sipped her Coke. Amara didn't even turn around.

"You ran off awfully fast." He said. "Am I not even worth a hello now?"

She spun her stool around and finally stared into his eyes. "No, you're not."

That didn't sit well. There was fire in his eyes. "What do ya mean, I'm not?"

"You are a good for nothing hood. You're not even worth the time I'm spending here talking to you now."

What she was saying happened to be the hard truth but she still felt bad saying it. Two days ago they had been friends.

"Is this about you kissin' that girl? 'Cause that's nothin'. And it ain't nothin' to you."

She had come up here because she didn't want to watch it. But that wasn't what had upset her. Hell – maybe on normal circumstances she could be okay standing there, watching him fool around with a girl. She was sure she could. But Amara couldn't see him acting so normal, when he had watched her get threatened and just let it go.

She thought about letting everything go and pretending that she did not know it was him at the Way Out the night before, only for a brief second. Then she remembered that he had just watched as she gave all her money to a guy willing to kill her if she didn't. He was not a friend. That's not something friends did.

"You know what this is about. I'm not clueless." Amara watched his face as her words sunk in. He realized she knew and the second he did he ran out of there; the door slammed shut so hard she felt herself shake.

He didn't have the right to be angry. He didn't have the right to feel anything for her. Just like she didn't have the right to feel anything for him.


	13. Chapter 13

kinda a serious chapter. Filler-ish chapter. No Amara :(Reviews?

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><p><em>I had a dad big and strong;<em>

_I turned around, I found my daddy gone. _

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><p><strong>CHAPTER THIRTEEN<strong>

School started up again and everything was like it was before Amara came into his life. He was drunk all weekend and he spent his days shamefully hooking up with Nancy. The only difference was he actually attended school these days.

He didn't even know why he was so mad about her giving up on him. He had thought he had given up on her the night before everything happened. But when she looked at him like he was a piece of shit, Curly knew he was a fuck up.

He couldn't even yell at her because she had every damn right to hate him. He had watched Dean point that gun right at her and he had just stood there and let him take all her money. At that point she had thought they were still friends. She also had never seen him do anything like that. To her he had just been Curly, not a dumb hood in a gang. Curly had liked that. With her he could just be dumb, he didn't have to act tough and on top of his game.

He had passed her in the hallway this morning and it was just like that time she ignored him because she didn't want anyone to know they talked. Except this time, she didn't even want to remember they had talked. She hardly even glanced at him, just stared right on past like he was a piece of dirt under her shoe.

Today, he had to go to Eleanor's again. He had all break off from her tutoring and there wasn't a single cell in him that wanted to go to that broad's house. He had to, though. That was the worst part.

Her house was as glamorous as he had remembered it to be. It made him sick; Eleanor's family was rich even before oil. He remembered his dad used to talk about his family, the Shepard's. They were always dirt poor, but proud. Mike had ruined that proudness for them; He would take anything anyone was willing to give. He worked a nine to five and came home and collected the welfare checks.

He rang the doorbell, and the same black women opened the door as always.

"Come on in boy," Celeste hollered at him. "You knows where to go."

Formal greetings were gone since his second tutoring session. He was okay with it. Celeste was a rough woman, despite her appearance. She kept all formalities with the Cohan's, but she must have warmed up to Curly because her native slurs came out and she got sharp with him.

"I must warn ya, Miss Cohan is in a mood."

Curly cracked a grin. "How do ya deal with these people, Miss Celeste?"

Celeste rolled her eyes. "I pray, boy. I pray a lot."

This time Eleanor and Curly worked on questions about Romeo and Juliet. Apparently, "they fell and love and died" wasn't a good enough summary for the play. According to Eleanor he needed at least a half a page, _more_ if he wanted at least an eighty. That was bullshit to him, he figured she was just trying to torture him. When they were kids, Curly always told his friends he thought Eleanor Cohan was a witch. That mindset never really left.

Despite not fully believing her, he did what she said. She had been right last time. He had gotten an eighty-one on that essay they had done and an eighty-four on the book report.

When he drove home that evening, he had three pages of his English book filled for three lame questions. It seemed a bit unnecessary to him but whatever got him to pass that god forsaken English class.

Mikes car was out of the driveway – always a good sign. Inside was the smell of chicken and their grandmother's casserole. But instead of Angel standing in front of the stove, it was his mother. That was a rare sight, that job was silently assigned to Angela when she was just thirteen. Ever since, it was rare to even see their Ma in the kitchen, unless it was because someone was fighting with Mike in there.

Angel and Tim sat at the table, looking at the current events with the same expression of confusion.

"What goin' on?" He asked. It was then he saw the fourth person in the room. It was a lady in a black suit. He remembered her from all the other visits she had made in the past two years. Mrs. Weir, she had told them to call her. She was a welfare worker. One time, after the first nasty fight, one of the neighbours called child services on Mike and Mary. Back then, the screaming and loud noises had been unfamiliar, now it was normal to them and all the people around them. Mrs. Weir hadn't stopped coming, though. Curly had no clue why because each time she came his mom acted like mother of the year and Mike pretended to be a sweetheart.

"Curly." She greeted. She sounded like every other adult that talked to him. He hated the way adults talked. The used faux-niceness and pretended like what they were asking was just that asking, but they were actually commanding. Mrs. Weir was not his least favorite person, but he didn't like her because she was shit at her job. She was supposed to make sure everything was right for the kids and remove anything that was harming them. She just fell victim to Mike's act and nothing got solved.

"Come sit down, please."

He sat down next to Angel, who looked quite pissed off. He kicked up his feet onto the table and he saw his mother flinch.

"Where's Michael, Mary?" Mrs. Weir had a notebook sat in front of her and a pen. That's where she wrote her conclusions. The ones she was shit at.

"He's at work. He'll be home around five."

Curly scoffed. Mrs. Weir's eyes turned to him. "Is there something you would like to share, Curly?"

He grinned wickedly. "Well, yes. You see ma here must have got her days mixed up."

Mrs. Weir frowned, and her brow creased, her confused eyes were questioning. "What do you mean?"

"It's Tuesday, Miss. Mike doesn't come home 'til twelve on Tuesdays."

"Oh," She peered at him up through her lenses. "Does he work overtime on Tuesday?"

"No, he goes to the bar and spends all his damn money on rum."

Tim looked away, shaking his head. But Curly caught the small upturn of his lips.

His mother had a different reaction. She looked horrified. "Curly!"

"He's just fooling around, Mrs. Weir." His mother's face was as the can of beets she had laid on the table to go with the chicken. "Kids these days."

Mrs. Weir laughed uncomfortably but Curly wasn't finished.

"Fridays are my favorite days though," He continued with sarcastic enthusiasm. "If I come home late, he beats the crap out of me."

He heard a shocked chuckle from Angela and his mother was almost in tears.

"Curly Shepard get up to your room now!"

His mother had a million reasons to be angry with him. He came home drunk every weekend, he got himself arrested one too many times, he was failing English – she had an abundance of them. But this was not one of them.

"For what, ma?" His voice was low and lethal. "Telling the truth? Mike is a fucking dick. He beat the shit out of me just a week ago because I smelt of booze. I can see a slap but he _beat the shit_ out of me. Or what about that time he went after Angel? Or that time he threw that book at you? That cut was deep. It's still there.

"His is always angry or drunk or both. Stop pickin' up for him, goddamnit."

It was silent. He could hear everyone's breaths and he was damn sure they could hear his because he was almost wheezing. Even Mrs. Weir was at lost for words and she always had something educated to say.

"Is this true?" Mrs. Weir was the first to find something to say.

"No." Said his mother.

"Yes." Angela said at the same time.

Mrs. Weir turned to Tim. "What is your thoughts on this, Timothy?"

Tim's eyes narrowed on her. "What do ya think they would lie?"

Mrs. Weir shook her head. "There are two different answers on the table. Someone is lying."

Ma was staring at Tim with worn out, pleading eyes. Tears brimmed them and it almost made Curly want to change his own answer. But that wouldn't be better for the long haul. He just hoped Tim would realize that, too. Ma was Tim's only weakness, the only thing that could turn tough, logical, gang leader Tim Shepard illogical and rash. Even Angela didn't have the same effect.

"They're tellin' ya the truth, Mike's deadbeat if I ever knew one."

Their mother started to cry and shake. She looked terrible; Curly knew this was the best thing though.

Tim roughly left the kitchen. The front door slammed and he was gone.

Mrs. Weir cleared her throat. "I will be back next week. We now have to perform a full investigation."

She packed up her things quickly and she also left the Shepard house.

Curly and Angel still sat at the table, now quiet. Their mother sat at the head of the table. Her face was hidden by her hair but he could see her body shaking, she was still crying.

Angela looked torn. He knew she had no idea what to do, and neither did he. It seemed that he and Angela were always the ones left facing the problems.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight.


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks for the reviews I liked the feedback and constructive critism!**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FOURTEEN<strong>

_what are we doing? _

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><p>Amara sat in the library. On Wednesday's she tutored Sylvia Beyer. She had since tenth grade. She used make money off her before she had a job, too. Sylvia would give her $1 if she did all her English homework for a week. Back then it had been a great arrangement, until they got to the finals and both girls realized Sylvia hadn't learned a thing.<p>

Sylvia Beyer was a pretty bottle blonde. Soc girls found her intimidating, and whenever she was around they didn't bring their men. That was useless. If Sylvia Beyer wanted something, she was going to get it. But a girl like her didn't want any guys of theirs.

"What type of play is Romeo and Juliet?" Amara quizzed her.

"A love story." Sylvia wasn't paying much attention and Amara could tell. Her grades were never the greatest, but this year they were at an all-time low. Amara knew why, but would never bring it up.

"A tragedy." She corrected.

Sylvia sighed and continued to pick at her nails. "That's the same thing, isn't it?"

Amara rolled her eyes. "What's Shakespeare's longest play?"

Sylvia didn't even look up, "Macbeth?"

"Hamlet."

Sylvia 'ahh'd' but it was obvious she didn't really care. It was frustrating the hell out of Amara because she _used_ to care. It was her own idea to get a tutor, not her mom's or her dad's, her own. Sylvia was one of those girls that bragged about her independency and knew she was going somewhere even if she didn't know where that was. Lately, she had just been a brat with nothing to show for it.

"Do you want to fail your senior year? Is that what you want?"

Sylvia glanced up at Amara, finally. "No. That is not what I want." Her tone was icy and sharp. Amara was glad to hear it.

"Good," She smiled warmly. "Then next week we're actually going to do something! Good luck on your test tomorrow."

She squinted down at Amara but Amara knew she wasn't actually mad. She was glad someone actually cared about her schooling. Sylvia packed up her stuff quickly and then was gone.

Amara was about to do the same when two girls sat down at the table with her.

Eleanor Cohan smiled at her, but it wasn't a real smile. It was fake and full of her usual sarcasm. Amara didn't smile back. Seated next to Eleanor was Marcia. She had no idea why these two were sitting with her. They hardly ever spoke to her.

"Oh, Amara." Another wicked grin from Eleanor. "Did you ask anyone to the Sadie Hawkins dance yet?

"I'm going with Anthony, obviously. Marcia, aren't you going with Christian Dixon?"

Marcia nodded her head. Amara stayed silent. Every time she talked to Eleanor, it backfired. No matter how hard she tried to impress her, that girl hated her through and through.

"Well?" Her voice held irritation.

"No." She replied but it came out as a tiny mutter.

"What was that?"

Now it was Amara who sounded irritated. "_I said_ no I did not."

"Marcia! What a pity, Amara doesn't have a date to the dance."

Amara's brow furrowed in frustration. "It's not that I don't have one, I didn't ask anyone yet."

Eleanor's eyes held amusement. It was sick how she was amused by someone else's humiliation. "You are you going to ask, Marey?"

She was defeated. She had no one to ask. She was also pissed off that Eleanor called her "Marey", just to mock her even more.

Eleanor was on the verge of laughing, she could feel it. Amara wouldn't have that.

"I think I'm going to ask Jimmy Dawson." She said it and instantly her stomach felt sick. She and Jimmy Dawson had hung out twice, platonically. He was just the first name to jump into her head and she was too stubborn to let Eleanor win.

Amara had no idea how she was going to work up the courage to ask Jimmy Dawson to the Sadie Hawkins dance. He was at his locker, she could see him from hers and he was alone. Now would be a good a time if there was one. Which, really, there probably wasn't.

Curly Shepard came into the corridor and Amara seemed to have found that courage out of nowhere.

The second after she asked Jimmy, she looked back at the spot where Curly had been. He was no longer there. A surge of a disappointment went through her because despite her pretending that he didn't exist, he still did and she was not oblivious to that. A huge part of her wanted him to hear it and get angry or annoyed or frustrated. That did not happen and she wasn't all too surprised. It was a childish thing to do.

"You asked _Jimmy Dawson_ to the Sadie Hawkin's dance?" Laurel asked, she was surprised, so was Amara.

Kathryn eyed her suspiciously from across the bed. "Yeah, when did you start taking a liking to him?"

Jimmy was in no way a loser, quite the opposite. He just wasn't a ladies man; he was the class clown, the joker of the bunch, so he was neglected by the majority of the female population. Girls still thought he was a real cutie, but would never go for him because he "couldn't take things seriously" that always made Amara laugh since the boys they went for didn't take them one bit seriously.

"I thought you liked Freddy?" Kathryn added.

She did like Freddy. But she was realistic, Freddy was too far out of her grasp. He wanted girls like Kathryn or Eleanor. And as close as Amara was to Kathryn, she could never be her.

"I'm not allowed to move on?"

The two other girls shook their heads, "No, it's just he's not exactly your type." Kathryn said.

"Is he the guy you were with those nights a couple weeks ago?" Laurel was always the excited one, for anything, but usually Kathryn wasn't so cold.

"Um," Amara chewed her inside cheek, "yes."

It was a lie, but it was all she could think to say. She couldn't say no – that would make her seem floosy.

She had asked Jimmy and she felt the most relief she had ever felt when he agreed to go with her. She would have been brutally ashamed if he hadn't. Especially with Curly watching.

"I just don't think he's up to your standards." Kathryn had a snotty tone to her voice. She usually was not so stuck up. But they all had their moments, mostly it was Laurel.

"He's nice and he quite funny and it's not like he's a loser." She defended.

"You're right," Kathryn said as if she was defeated. "I'm just being a brat."

"Yeah, you are." Amara picked up her things. "I gotta go home. It's almost supper."

It was a lie but Laurel and Kathryn nodded and Amara quickly left. She would be cooking supper for herself tonight.

The house was quiet. She hated being home alone, it was too silent. Sometimes she really hated pretending to be something she wasn't. She couldn't even call anyone up to come over and just hang out with her because no one knew where she lived. The only ones who knew were Curly and Cherry. Cherry was busy and Curly wasn't in the picture. She would have to spend the night alone.


	15. Chapter 15

I thought I'd post this now before I go on vacation for two weeks and leave you hanging!

Thanks for the feedback! Hows this chapter?

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><p><strong>CHAPTER FIFTEEN<strong>

_I never meant to hurt anyone, I really thought we were just having fun._

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><p>"I broke up with Bryon," Angela babbled on into the phone. "He was boring, Missy. Yeah, don't you think he's too-"<p>

Curly zoned her mindless chatter out. Though, he was happy to hear Bryon was now out of their lives.

It was Monday. One more day and it would be exactly a week since Mrs. Weir had paid her visit. Ma must have got a hold of Michael because Curly hadn't seen the sight of him; a lot of his stuff was gone. Curly should have figured he wouldn't stick around for Mrs. Weir's investigation. He was glad the bastard was nowhere to be seen but it would be nice if he got what was coming to him. His mother had been ignoring him, too. The only thing he had said to him since he had let their dirty secrets slip out to Mrs. Weir was to holler at him to put his jacket away that was hung on the rail and to get up for school. She hadn't smiled once, but that was really nothing new. Dad would be furious with her, he had this thing about family. If he was somehow looking down on them, he wouldn't be happy about what his family had turned into. Charles Shepard's family had become a mess and everyone thought so.

Tim had been in and out. But that wasn't too abnormal, but his outs were more frequent. That could be because he didn't have to worry about Mike hurting Angel or harassing Curly, but Curly figured it was because Tim could never handle seeing their mother upset. If you wanted to hurt Tim Shepard, hurt his mother.

"Did Curly get asked to the Hawkin's dance yet? Jesus, Missy who cares? Curly's an idiot." Angel sighed and looked over his way.

"Curl, did you get asked to the dance yet? I doubt it."

"No." Curly replied. He had forgot all about it. His mind had been busy with their hetic, everything's about to hit the fan, family. He didn't want to think about it, either.

Amara had asked Jimmy Dawson. He had watched it happen and he wanted to punch the guy in the throat. Amara hadn't talked to him at all, she was ignoring him more than his mother. She had every right to. What chick in their right mind talks to the guy who was part of a plan that involved her getting a gun pointed at her – not a single one. He still couldn't deny it pissed him off. He figured she'd be over it all ready, it'd been two weeks.

Curly pushed himself away from the table and made his way out to the car. Another thing that pissed him the fuck off – having to go to school every god damn day. He was commanded by Tim no matter how sick or tired he was he was going to school. That seemed like a nice brotherly bit of advice, but it was only for Tim's selfish reasons; so if Tim absolutely needed Curly, Tim knew Curly could go on the skip.

When Curly arrived at school he heard the bell ring but he didn't start to rush around like the other kids that dispersed around him. He lit up a smoke and calmly leaned against his truck. There was hardly anyone left out in the lot.

A couple freshman were badly hidden behind the dumpster, smoking pot he could smell from here. A few girls were still walking down to the doors and over to his left was Amara laughing with Jimmy. He guessed they must have been a thing now or something. He didn't like the sound of that.

Jimmy Dawson was an alright guy, and he always bought his pot off of Curly or Steven which meant he was always giving one of them profit. But Amara was naïve, if someone offered her something, she'd take it because she thought they were doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. She had gotten drunk when Tim gave her beer and had gotten high when Anthony Sheldon offered it at a party. Jimmy Dawson didn't just stop with pot, Jimmy was real into LSD, too. That kid was tuff, but he was a bit off, just like those hippie kids. He hoped Amara wouldn't get mixed up in that.

The two walked passed him, Amara gave him a small smile but he couldn't even focus on that, his eyes were on their hands, hands that were locked together. He managed to give her a nod in return. He stomped his cig out and ran off to catch the last two minutes of homeroom.

"23, 15… 6." Curly muttered under his breath. He was already late leaving school. Mr. Saunders gave him a half hour detention for 'back-talking'. Curly just believed that man had a stick so far up his ass he couldn't appreciate any sort of humor.

"Hey," a soft voice came out from behind him. He hadn't heard it in a while.

"Hey," he said back. "Why're you here so late?"

She didn't appear to be comfortable around him. She was still a ways away from him and she seemed a lot smaller than usual, shyer. Amara looked at him with a wariness in her eyes, as if he was dangerous and could snap any second. She was looking at him like all the other high class girls looked at him. He didn't like it.

"I had to tutor someone but they didn't show. How about you? Detention, I suppose?"

"You got me." He laughed but it soon fell silent and uncomfortable.

He grabbed his smokes and jacket from his locker. "Wanna go for a drive?"

She didn't hesitate. "Yes, I'd love to."

Amara and Steven were the only enjoyable people to go for casual rides with. Steven always had a crazy stories and dirty jokes to share that Steven thought were hilarious, and Amara was up for anything and sung along passionately with him to all the right songs. She wasn't the same today. She was quiet and even when "Help" came on, she didn't sing with him or poke fun.

He knew why. He had not said anything about "The Way Out" incident and it had been going through his mind the whole time he had been with her this afternoon.

"I did a pretty shitty thing not helping you." He wasn't good with apologies. He figured she most likely knew that.

"What are you talking about?" Amara was playing dumb. She wanted him to say it. He hated girls playing dumb.

"You know what I'm talking about." His voice held no room for games. He was sure that got across to her.

"You mean when I had a heater held to my head? That time you didn't help me?" Her voice was snide and sarcastic. She was having no games either.

"When some masked man stole my entire paycheck? The incident that made me have to work as many extra shifts as I could possibly manage just to afford gas? That time?"

"Yes." He breathed.

She nodded and her tiny body seemed to almost shake with anger. Curly pulled the vehicle off to the side and onto a dirt road that led to the warehouse. No one would be there today, it was a slow day for the gang. He parked the truck behind the building.

"I understand that you're some hood, who's in a gang and all that. But you're still supposed to be my friend if that's what you said you were going to be. Friends don't let friends get hurt if they can help it."

"I would never have let him shoot you, ya know that right?" He was being honest. There would be no way he would let Dean shoot Amara even if it was Tim's orders. There was _no way in hell_ that Dean would hurt a pretty little blonde hair on Amara's head.

"I think I know that, yes." She said lowly.

"I would not let him touch ya, ever." He stared her in the eyes. "The whole money thing, I can pay ya back? I got my ways."

"It's fine."

He shook his head, still making eye contact with her. "No it ain't fine, unless you're sure its fine."

Her face hinted at a smile. "I promise you, its fine."

A catchy beat rolled in and her face lit up. "I love this song."

"You love this song?" Curly laughed. 'My Girl,' by the Temptations was now blasting from his radio. He wasn't sure he knew a single person who loved this song.

She did actually seem to love it, she sang along to every word. She sounded horrible and he couldn't help but laugh at her. She even had little dramatic moves to go with her singing.

As the song dragged on and she did not stop, he decided to shut her up. He kissed Amara for the third time. Jimmy was long gone out of his mind; he obviously did not have a tight leash on her since she was sitting here in his truck.

"What are you doing?" She stopped singing.

"I'm kissing you." He mumbled against her lips. He was surprised that was enough for her, then she was kissing him back. She always surprised him.

Amara was everywhere. Her hands slid up and down his back, they ran through his hair, her lips were all over neck and lips. Last time she had been nervous, now it seemed natural to her, he was okay with that.

He began to lift up her shirt and she didn't stop him. "What about Jimmy?" He asked finally. He regretted it immediately.

She was out from under him in a second and putting her hair back into the perfect ponytail. "You're right. Jimmy."

She grabbed her shirt right from his hands and slipped it on. "So, that's it? We kiss and you just go back to Jimmy."

Amara didn't glance his way. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Did you want to kiss me?" He said seriously. She turned to face him.

"Yes."

"Then who gives a shit about Jimmy Dawson?" Curly's face scrunched up and his eyes narrowed.

"He's a sweet guy." She said quietly. "Us, we're friends, Curly."

Curly nodded and dropped it. He let her fix herself up and then drove on. She was such a fucking tease and he got nowhere with her. He didn't get why he wasn't mad. He should be – she just stopped kissing him to be good to another guy, and here Curly was, just accepting that.

The rest of the ride was like nothing even happened. She was laughing and singing, and being herself. Them kissing was nagging at him in the back of his mind but it wasn't a big deal. He couldn't expect too much, she had been ignoring him until now. He was getting somewhere. He wanted to demand that she either choose him or Jimmy but it didn't seem right. Jimmy would treat her nice; Curly was too indecisive.

"Do you want to come in?" She had never asked him that before. It was early still, not even supper time yet, he could probably stay for a while.

He cut off the engine. "Sure."

Her house wasn't much bigger than his, if it even was. It was a humble house. Pictures of Amara, and her brother and he guessed her parents lined the hallways walls.

"It's just me for supper tonight. If you want to stay. I'm thinking about making spaghetti."

"Are you home by yourself a lot?" he asked, remembering every time he dropped her off she never had a curfew or anyone breathing down her back to get home.

"Yeah, it's nice, though." She said, but she didn't seem too happy about it.

Her room was just posters of bands and records everywhere.

"Most of them are Henry's. We used to share a room." She pointed to the posters. Curly should have assumed that by the amount of pin up girls sprawled across the rooms walls.

"Sophia Loren, she's a favorite of mine." Curly mumbled looking at the pictures. Amara chuckled.

"Take it, Henry's got himself a girl now. Says it wants to marry her. He won't be needing that anymore."

Henry Robinson was the same age as Tim and he wanted to get married. He couldn't see Tim thinking about marriage right now, all that was in Tim's brain was the gang. Girls were in and out of the Shepard house but none of them made second appearances. Tim might settle down, but later on after the gang shit was over. If Tim announced an engagement tomorrow, Curly would be shocked, for Amara it was the norm. That was just a small example on how screwed up how he perceived life was.

"Hey, I gotta go." Curly said abruptly.

Amara frowned and it almost made him want to stay. "You're not gonna stay and eat? I promise I'm actually a good cook."

"I really gotta go, doll. I'll see ya later."

"Wait."

He turned back and watched Amara pull off the Sophia Loren poster off the wall and roll it up. "Don't forget your poster." She handed over the picture. He gave her one last smile.

When he got home a familiar girl was sitting on his doorstep. From the end of the driveway he could see why he once liked her. Nancy Reynolds was tall, tan and had legs that went on for days. She had long black hair to her waist and big brown eyes, he had lusted after that girl the moment he saw her in eighth grade. It took him a year and a half to get her to look at him, and now the tables were turned; he was disgusted by her.

In a closer view Nancy appeared tired, there were dark bags under her eyes and he could see the terrible tracks lacing up her arm. She used to be so vain about her appearance, to the point she almost annoyed him. Now she was sitting on his porch with frizzy hair and raggy clothes that seemed at least two sizes too big.

"What are you here for, Nancy?" He was exhausted. He had a lot on his mind lately and he didn't need her stressing him out even further.

She looked up at him, but it seemed she was just staring right through him. "I was wondering if you could loan me some money, baby."

She was at an all-time low if she was coming to him for cash. She must have been getting worse. He shoved her aside and walked up the porch steps.

"Me give you money so you can just go get doped up?" The words felt sadly hilarious as they left his mouth. It was ridiculous if she thought he would actually loan money to her for her drug fix. And he used the term "loan" very lightly since he knew if he did give her some cash, he would never get any back.

"Curly, please, baby." She talked slowly, in a way where she sounded far away.

"You know I feel about drugs. I hate 'em. You're weak, Nancy. I ain't givin' you nothin'. You screwed me over and you ain't my problem no more. Ya hear?"

"I need money, Curly, honey." She said in a whisper. He could hear her quietly make her way up behind him. Her tiny fingers lightly wrapped around his arm. She glanced at him through her lashes. "Please?"

God, he was almost as weak as her because apart of him wanted to say yes, and if it had been three months ago – he probably would have. She still had a grasp on him, she probably always would, but it wasn't as tight.

"No!"

The front door swung open and Nancy's arm dropped. In the frame stood Angela, arms crossed with her usual fierce glare.

"Well if it isn't it Tulsa's drugwhore."

Nancy's soft, pleading demeanor was gone in a second. She peered at Angel with narrowed eyes and she stood up defensively. Curly thought she might even hiss.

"Heard ya were knocked up," Angela continued without hesitation "I heard dope fucks up baby's real bad. Pity that kid."

Angela was cruel but right now Curly was relieved she was. Nancy Reynolds was a wreck if he ever knew one and he didn't need another one of those in his life, he already had two in his family alone.

"See ya, Nancy." Curly stepped into the house and Angela slammed the door behind him.

"Glory, she's fucking pathetic." Angela sighed, "Oh and Tim left ya a note on the kitchen table."

"Stop cursing, Angel." He said before he walked into the kitchen. She continued to whine things like 'you do it all the time, so can I' but Curly had no time to listen to her "girls can do anything boys can do" feminist bullshit.

_Warehouse at six_ was signed on a crumpled piece of paper in his brother. His eyes wandered to the clock on the wall; the clock read five forty-five.

"God damnit, I can't catch a break." Curly cursed as he threw back on his leather jacket he had thrown on the floor only seconds before.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks for reviews yoo , hope this is up to your standards**

**song: the maine, thinking of you**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER SIXTEEN<strong>

_so I'll take the ten and drive 'til dawn,_

_to show you I'm the one_**  
><strong>

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><p>She laughed at something Jimmy said. She hadn't quite heard it but the others laughed so she assumed it was funny, so she forced out a giggle.<p>

The bell had rung six minutes ago but the Soc's seemed to drag out their time at school as long as possible. She had no clue why, she just wanted to leave.

"Hey, is that Curly Shepard there?" Jimmy pointed to a figure not too far in the distance. "Curly!"

The person turned around and it was, in fact, Curly. Amara couldn't find a reason of these social guys would call out to Curly but she said nothing.

Curly made his way over to the crowd and Amara subconsciously shrugged Jimmy's arm off of hers.

"Hey, man," Jimmy shook his hand. "Can you get me some stuff?"

She watched the scene going on in front of her confused. Curly gave her a cautious look but then turned his full attention to the boy next to her.

"Yeah, I got some in my truck if you wanna follow me." He gestured behind him.

"Alright."

Jimmy unlatched himself fully from Amara and followed the other guy down the parking lot. When he got back she could already get a whiff of the scent that was oozing out of his pocket. Curly didn't come back.

"That guy might be a bum but he always gets me good grass." Jimmy said to Anthony.

Anthony nodded. "Yeah, me too."

This had to be a joke. Curly had been furious with her for smoking pot _one time_. He couldn't be out there selling-but she could smell it and she wasn't dumb.

"How much did you get?" Anthony asked.

"An ounce. I'm throwing a party Friday, had to be prepared."

The boys talked about drugs and parties for a while longer and Amara stood by Jimmy's side silently. She was mad – but was she really surprised? This wasn't something she should have ruled out, Curly selling drugs. He was in a gang; she was just going to have to get used to all this stuff that he does and not let it get to her. It still ticked her off that he had been angry with her when he was out there forcing it on other people. He even supplied for Jimmy, meaning the pot she had was probably straight from him.

"Amara?" She had been zoned out. Jimmy grinned at her, Anthony was nowhere to be seen.

"Oh, sorry." She felt her face warm up. "What did you say?"

"I asked, want to go back to my house? We can just watch television, I don't know… whatever you want."

"I'd love to."

Jimmy's house was nice. It wasn't as extravagant as most of the houses on the west side, though you could still tell they were rich.

"You can take a seat on the couch. I'll get us some sodas." He disappeared down a long hallway before she could even nod.

She sat down on the couch awkwardly. She had never been good with dates, which she suspected this sort of was. She hadn't had trouble talking to boys until they were alone like this. She could with Curly, but that was because she wasn't trying to impress him.

"Seven-Up." He handed her the glass bottle and she thanked him. She hated Seven-Up.

He flipped on the television, Star Trek was on, which was apparently his favourite show. Jimmy threw his arm lazily around her shoulder and stared at the screen.

She didn't know what was worse, watching the program in complete silence or trying to think of things to say. That's why when he leaned in to kiss her she was more relieved than nervous.

His kiss was sweet and soft. It was nice.

He kissed her only three more times before she left hours later. Amara was ashamed but she thought that was boring.

"Where were you?" Her mother asked; glimpsing up from her book. Her dad sat at her side and peered briefly over his newspaper when she came in but his attention drifted from her quickly, without even a hello. But it wasn't _that_ that was odd to her, it was odd that he was home early.

"I was at Jimmy's, I called you around four, ma."

She nodded, "Oh, that's right. It must have been you who called while I was putting the groceries away. You know your dad never can pick up a phone…"

Her father cleared his throat. "Helena, I ain't gonna pick it up. It's never for me so I don't touch the blasted thing."

Helena Robinson rolled her eyes and focused on Amara once again. "Honey, we have some news."

The first thing that popped into to Amara's head was either an affair or Henry's girlfriend was pregnant. It wasn't either of those.

Paper rustled. Her father was now paying attention. "I lost my job." He told her, grimly.

This wasn't something she wanted to hear – her dad was the main supporter of the family. Her mother worked but if it was just her supplying the family with income they weren't getting very far.

"Uncle Bill said he could try and set me up with a mechanic job at his garage but things around here are gonna get a lot tighter."

They were already on a tight budget; a lot tighter was setting them off to be where they were years ago.

Her mother looked at her with sympathetic eyes. She was having none of it. It was hard enough keeping up with her rich kid friends now, let alone in a couple weeks with their now even lower income. She paid for most of her stuff, but her parents pitched in with new dresses and shoes often. She was going to have no extra help soon. Everything seemed against her lately, and her little web of lies seemed closer and closer to being exposed.

"I'm going to my room." She said and ran up the staircase. Amara wished Henry was here, he always handled things like this so much better. She could call him – but he was probably too busy for her.

The next day was a blur and somehow she ended up behind the counter at Safeway. Cherry had shown up at of nowhere about a half hour before and now sat behind the counter with Amara. It was a funny sight, seeing Cherry and her manicured self with a hair net, actually behind a counter. It didn't look right, but Amara wasn't going to complain. She was good company.

"I do not know how you do this all day," Cherry sighed. "It is downright dreadful and boring."

Amara resisted the eye roll that she felt coming, Cherry wasn't trying to be rude or put her down; she truly didn't understand.

"It pays the bills." Amara said, shrugging.

Cherry nodded and things went quiet. Amara switched on the portable radio that rested on the shelf behind her. She was overly content when Elvis Presley started coming out of its speakers, she even turned it up a notch.

"I never understood the fascination with Elvis." Cherry spoke again. On this side of town, she seemed clueless. Amara tried to figure out a way to explain the love of Elvis to her.

"I think it's because Elvis is relatable over here. He wears leather jackets, sings rock 'n' roll and grew up real modest." She smiled, "Some people just like his music, but I think people look at Elvis and think 'he did it, I can to'."

Amara was terrible at explaining things. She rambled too much, and never said things quite right. Cherry didn't seem to mind. That was one of Cherry's good traits, she didn't understand too well and sometimes she was a little lost, but she always had patience.

"And I ain't just talking about singing, they see someone like that and they think they can do whatever they want."

They never talked much after that. Work picked up, Amara expected that. It was Friday and no one liked to cook on Friday so they came and bought pre-cooked meals. She didn't know a single person that came in, expect for Eric Riley. Henry warned her about who to watch out for around town, Eric was on top of the list. He was the Tiger's leader and you didn't mess with him. The stories about him were horrific. But she couldn't get past how harmless he looked picking up a chicken and potatoe salad. He seemed to be just a normal every day guy; not someone who has raped women and shot down men. He didn't seem off at all, only for the scar that dragged down the left side of his face. Rumor was he got it in a knife fight when he was only twelve. People said that's where the gang got its name since the scar was similar to one of an animalistic scratch.

"Here's the money from the register, Mr. Adderson." Amara handed the man a pile of bills. It was just a few minutes past eight thirty. The man took it but he wasn't looking at Amara, he was looking past her, right at Cherry.

"How are you, Miss Valance?" Cherry tipped her head up, suddenly.

"I'm good," she sounded almost awkward. She had never heard her that way before. "How's Randy?"

Mr. Adderson's smile disappeared and his face shut down. He was a nice, jovial man, and Amara hadn't seen him be rude to a single soul before. But he looked at Cherry now as if she were dirt. It was a silent agreement by anyone that was close to Mr. Anderson not to mention Randy, Cherry obviously wasn't in on it.

"I've got to go." His voice was cold and he left quickly. Cherry appeared to be confused, which was not a first.

Amara shook her head. "Let's go, Cher. You wanted to go to Jimmy's right?"

"Why was Mr. Adderson so cold back there?" Cherry whispered as they left.

She expected the redhead to have clued in by now. Cherry was a bright girl, but she let easy things slip past, things that others reviewed as common sense. But common sense seemed to be in the eye of the beholder, anyways.

"Don't bring up, Randy. He hasn't contacted his family in a while. He just upped and left and doesn't even call them anymore."

The parking lot was mostly empty. The sun was setting and everything glowed orange.

There was a person leaning on the side of her car. At first she thought it was a mistake, but it was defiantly her car because there was only about five cars left in the whole place and it was the only '49 green Dodge Cornet there.

When the two got closer she could tell who it was: Curly Shepard.

He grinned when he saw her coming and she frowned. "What the hell are you doing here, Curly?"

She placed her hands firmly on her hips and unknowingly flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder. He only shrugged, passively. "I was bored. Figured you'd be off around this time so I came to greet ya."

"I'm kinda busy."

Curly glanced at Cherry. "I see that, hi, pretty thing."

Amara's stomached tightened as he complimented the other girl, she knew she was feeling jealously, but she presumed that's what he was trying to do.

Cherry tucked her red hair behind her ear and gave him a stiff smile in return. Her body had tensed up and it only clicked in to Amara then that Cherry must have been uncomfortable. She could understand why, Curly looked as intimidating as his brother as he leaned lazily on her car, staring at them with an amused smirk on his face. He appeared dangerous.

"Leave us alone, Curly." Amara said in a pleading voice. She, herself, wanted a chance to talk to him. She had been dying to ever since Wednesday when she had witnessed him openly deal drugs in front of her like it was no big deal.

"Its fine, Amara." Cherry spoke up quietly. "I'll just go, I have to drive myself to Jimmy's anyways."

Cherry left and her red Corvette zoomed out of the Safeway's lot.

"You're going to Jimmy's?" He asked. His demeanor didn't change, he was still cool and calm, but you could tell in his eyes he wasn't as pleased.

"Yeah, he's having a party." She said. Curly nodded and started roaming his jacket, seemingly looking for something. Not too long after, he pulled out a box of matches. He lit his match off his chain like he always did and pulled a cigarette down from behind his ear. He lit the cig.

"Let's go for a ride, hey?" Amara wasn't given the time to reply. Curly swiftly grabbed the keys that dangled loosely from her hand. Before she could even think about the question, Curly was sitting in the driver's seat. She was frustrated and confused, but she made her way around the car and slid into the passenger's seat. As soon as she was seated, the car was moving.

"Why are you in such a rush?" She wondered, irritated.

"I thought you were gonna be real mad."

"Why would I be mad?"

He shrugged and stared at the road. "I don't know, figured you would be is all."

Amara knew what he was referencing to. The drug dealing and it did in fact make her mad. She just wasn't surprised. It was like her head just automatically thought that Curly was going to screw up somehow and she was always waiting for it to happen. What she didn't know was why she even let him drive her anywhere or why she was not overly upset. She had been, not too long ago, but it was as if when he was around everything she had been upset about left because she was glad he was there.

"You thought I was going to be mad because you deal drugs, right?"

His head turned, and he eyed her as if he was trying to figure out from her face if she was mad or not.

"Yeah, that."

She nodded. "I was mad. I mean, you got angry at me for trying it when you sell it and push it on people. That's hypocritical. I was avoiding you but now that you're here I just can't be mad."

Curly stared at her confusion on his face before he began to chuckle softly. "I like that sound of that. I just gotta show up for ya to stop bein' all pissy with me. That'll come in handy."

Amara ignored him and glanced out the window. They were now even further on the east side of town, the opposite of where she was supposed to be. Jimmy's was almost twenty minutes from where they were now. She was going to be way late and showing up with another guy.

"I need you to bring me to Jimmy, Curly." She said sternly. He just laughed.

"I'll be damned sweetheart before I bring a pretty girl to another guy's house."

Amara slumped back into the passenger seat, already beat with frustration. But there was still that part of her that was glad she wasn't leaving Curly's side just yet.


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. I think this is my longest fic ever because I always give up. Feedback is always appreciated :)**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER SEVENTEEN<strong>

_listen to me darlin', oh you don't have to wait  
>it's alright, you can still change your mind<br>just hold tight, everything's gonna be alright_

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><p>It was close to ten thirty when he finally decided he should bring Amara around to Jimmy's. He figured the guy would be worried enough by now since his girl was supposed to be at his place by nine.<p>

Amara suggested that he drive himself home and she could drive herself to the party since it was her car. He wasn't really taken with that idea. Curly wanted to see Jimmy's face when he pulled up and dropped Amara off then later on, picked her up. He knew it was only out of jealously he wanted to do this because other than that he had no reason to dislike Jimmy but he didn't have the slightest care.

Amara sat quietly in the passenger's side. She hadn't said anything in a while, she had just been staring out the window.

"What house is his?" Curly asked once they were on the right street. She pointed to the one on the left corner. The lights were on but other than that it seemed barren. Either there wasn't a party and she just wanted some alone time with Dawson or she was lying. He didn't like either of those options.

"You sure?" He said skeptically. Amara nodded and got out of the car quickly.

"Alright, I'll pick you up here at midnight."

She said goodbye and began to walk into the backyard of the house they were at. Then just when he was about to drive away, he caught her sneaking through the bushes and down the road. She had been lying.

He knew why she was and he couldn't even be mad. Curly knew she wasn't comfortable with everyone knowing her business yet and he had dragged himself along just to show up Jimmy. He was angry that he was such an idiot.

At midnight Amara appeared from the back yard of the house he had dropped her off at, she had kept up the charade.

When she got into the car the light shown on her and she looked different. Her hair was messy and her make-up was smudged. There would only be on reasonable explanation for that and Curly did not want to hear it.

"You look like a wreck." He laughed, his face tight. He hoped she wouldn't notice.

She rolled her eyes. "Nice to see you, too."

"You really like that Jimmy kid?" He asked her, overly curious for her answer.

She pursed her lips and stayed quiet.

"Yes. He's sweet and funny," She eyed him, "and reliable."

That pissed him off. The guy was sweet and funny – good for him, but reliable was a dig at Curly. It was a small one, but still a dig. Curly was reliable. He did anything for the people he cared about, she was just judging him based on his lame mistakes. But never once had he let her get hurt or stood her up.

"He seemed to have done a number on you." He gestured to her messy appearance. He couldn't see it in the dark, but he knew she was now blushing.

"He's my boyfriend," she said defensively.

"How do I know it was even Jimmy?" Curly was being an asshole but he couldn't stop. "You got hot and heavy with me and I sure as hell ain't your man."

Amara's glare was fierce. "Curly, you're an ass."

He chuckled. He knew he was an ass and he really didn't care. He was really trying with this girl and she always had something bad to say about him. She needed to get over herself. She wasn't all high and mighty.

"It's true. It wasn't even just once – you're always willing to jump into my car and fool around with me."

She frowned and turned to face the window. She didn't yell at him and when she didn't yell, he started to feel bad because he knew now she was actually thinking she might be a cheap whore. Fooling around with him behind Jimmy's back was not something she should be doing, but she was anything but a whore. They hadn't even gotten far.

"Amara?" She didn't turn around but he could her quiet sniffling. He must have been crying.

"Shit," he grabbed her shoulder and made her face him. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. "Amara, doll, I'm sorry."

She nodded and wiped her eyes. "God, I'm a horrible person. I'm stringin' you both along. He's my boyfriend and here I am hangin' out with you and whenever you smile at me I just want to kiss you. I'm a horrible person."

If whenever he smiled, she wanted to kiss him, he figured he may as well smile more if it gets him action. He wouldn't let it get to his ego right now though, she was crying and this seemed serious.

"You're right. You're stringing us along. I hate it and if Jimmy knew about it, he'd hate it. You're not horrible but you gotta choose what you want. It's drivin' me crazy not knowin'."

"I don't know what I want." She was soft and quiet and he could hear the worry in her voice.

He nodded, his eyes now stuck onto the road. "I'll just take you home."

He dropped her off at her house and began his long walk. She said a goodbye and he mumbled something appropriate back.

She didn't know what she wanted and as much as he wanted to force her to want him – he would give her space to find out what she wanted. He would leave her alone until she came to him or maybe she would never come to him, but he'd let her decide that without interfering. Him forcing himself on her was bad for them both; he kept getting let down and she grew more confused.

At home, Tim sat on the couch by himself. He had a beer in his grip and he was staring at the television. It seemed like a normal sight, except Tim hated watching TV if it wasn't a football game and they guy hated drinking alone.

"Hey, man." Curly threw himself on the other side of the couch. Tim glanced his way but only gave Curly a nod in return. Tim went through spurts where he didn't talk, he just thought and it usually meant something was wrong.

"What's goin' on?"

Tim grunted but that was it. It was silent so long, Curly thought for sure Tim was ignoring him. But Tim spoke a few minutes later.

"You know how I've been pushin' the gang harder and harder to earn more cash lately?"

Curly nodded. Tim had been a drill sergeant lately. It was rough.

"I got a kid on the way." Tim said gruffly. "I got someone knocked up. You remember Jenny?"

Curly did remember Jenny. The girl should have been considered a legend because she made it back into this house, not twice but five times. Tim liked her enough to keep her around a lot longer than his other flings. It still wasn't much but it was something for his brother to keep a girl around longer than a week. Someone, somewhere must have it out for Tim, knocking poor Jenny up.

"How long have you known?"

"Four months."

Quickly, Curly did the math. Four months, that meant there was only a mere five months left. The kid could be here by July. Curly felt bad for Tim, but not that bad. It was his one actions that got that girl knocked up. He really felt bad for the kid-to-be. Tim wasn't going to be the best dad. Tim was shit with kids.

"Wow." Curly said, Tim nodded and began to chug his beer. It was then Curly noticed the various empty beer bottles on the coffee table. Tim was drunk. That didn't surprise him. If some broad Curly had fooled around with him said she was having his baby, he would get plastered too.

Curly patted his brother on the shoulder and left him to drink his sorrows by his lonesome. Curly decided it was time to hit the sack. He had left Amara's house not too long ago thinking it was weird how her brother was thinking about marriage while his own brother has a baby on that way. Still, he couldn't see Tim as a family man.

Down the hall he heard quiet cries coming from his mother's room. He wanted to go in and comfort her, but instead he went to his own room and slammed the door shut. He had enough family drama for one day.

The next day, Curly was woken up by Angela threatening to poor water on him. He could never get away from the family drama. She stood in his doorframe with her arms crossed.

"You're friends with Ponyboy, right?" Angela asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, I guess – he's a tuff kid." Curly answered, clueless to why should would even ask him such a question.

"What does he like?"

Curly didn't like where this conversation was going. He really didn't want to chit chat with his sister about what movies Pony likes to see or what color he likes on a girl. He was glad she had stepped up her taste, but he didn't want to know more than he needed to know.

"I don't know, Angel," he said groaning. "He likes books and movies and actually bein' a decent person, shit like that. Shit you don't know anything about."

Angela huffed and left his sight. He was pleased by that, but she had left the damn door open which meant he actually had to get up to at least close the door and once you got up, there was no point in going back to bed. Angela was a pest.

When he finally got up, it seemed only his mother was left in the house. He wondered if she knew about Tim – probably not. Tim would try to spare her from his drama over anything right now, with her being so upset over Mike's absence. Tim had said he had been pushing all the guys harder for money for the kid, but they both knew they had to pull extra weight now that they were fully without a good income. Curly had even contemplated asking Amara to hook him up with a job. He dropped that idea, though. He couldn't see himself working at some lame grocery store, ringing people in or stocking shelves. That was too mundane.

"Good morning, Curly." His mother said softly. She was peering at him over her newspaper. It was such a small gesture but he appreciated it. He hated her ignoring him.

"Mornin', Ma." He gave her his classic grin, just to show her he wasn't upset.

"I made some French toast if you want some."

Sure enough on the counter was French toast. He hadn't had that in years, she never cooked anymore. It was nice seeing all this tiny things slowly weave their way back into his life. His mother was no doubt sad and stressed, but she seemed as if she was getting better. He hoped she was.

"Sweet," he said. "Thanks."

She nodded and tilted her head back to the paper. He ate in complete silence before leaving to go to the warehouse. He didn't know what Tim was up to today but it was probably going to be hard work.

"I took Curly's suggestion into mind and realized it was actually fucking smart," Tim's voice boomed throughout the warehouse. It was dripping authority, as usual. "Stealing parts off those rich kids' cars will rake in a bunch of cash."

Curly had almost completely forgot about that. That night at The Way Out had been pretty complicated for him. The suggestion of stealing those people's car parts had left his mind.

"Hittin' The Way Out again so soon is too risky so we're going to have to do this at another one of their hang outs."

"There's a huge party at the river bottom next Friday. All the richest kids with the nicest cars will surely be there." Curly piped up; instantly he regretted that. Amara had mentioned it. It was some post-dance party. She had been excited for it. Now he was using it against her, to steal from her friends. He just couldn't help himself, he liked the impressed looks Tim was giving him for once. He was such an idiot, always seeking Tim's approval as much as he tried to stop.

"You hangin' with that chick isn't so bad after all." Tim grinned before sinking into a discussion of what parts they wanted the most and what to leave behind.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter eighteen, this stories been published for almost a year now! It's probably most least popular story on here but it's my favourite. Thanks ObscureAlternatives for being such a awesome reviewer :) Song: Boys Like You, 360.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER EIGHTEEN<strong>

_mama always told me poppa always warned me,_

_don't hang around boys like you_

_teacher always taught me never to be naughty;_

_don't mess around with boys like you_

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><p>Sylvia didn't show up again and Amara was starting to get angry by being blown off, it was the third time.<p>

She made use of the library time and studied for her Math test, until five when Laurel arrived to pick her up. They were supposed to get ready for the dance together.

"Laurie, I am so stupid." Amara groaned. Laurel turned from her closet to face Amara.

"Why?"

"I was so busy with tutoring and school, I forgot to buy a dress."

Laurel's eyes widened as if this was the worst thing she ever heard. Amara almost laughed.

"Amara! The dance is in three hours." Laurel headed back into her closet and pulled out some dresses she had already worn. This was what Amara had been hoping for. She hadn't had the extra money to go buy a dress. She had thought her excuse had been lame and unbelievable but it did its job.

"I know we don't have the same exact taste," Laurel said handing Amara the dresses. "But, I think these are okay."

Amara nodded. They were nice and more expensive than anything she had ever bought.

"You're a lifesaver." Amara grinned and undressed to try them on. Jimmy would get her here in just two hours. He promised to take her out to dinner before the dance at "Le Nuit Rouge". It was a fancy restaurant that Amara had only heard talk of, she had never been there. It was very popular with seniors who took their dates there before Prom. Even Henry had done that. She was excited that Jimmy offered to bring her even though it was a dance where they girls were supposed to make the plans.

Amara chose the blue dress Laurel had given her. The yellow clashed with her blonde hair and the pink washed her out. Blue was her go to colour, anyway. It always looked good on her.

Amara retouched her make-up and Laurel pinned her hair up and tied a blue ribbon into it for her. When Amara pulled the rollers out of Laurel's ginger hair, there was a knock on the door.

"It better not be David!" Laurel squealed. "I haven't even put on my mascara."

Amara wasn't even sure how Laurel managed to con David Manson to actually going to the dance with her but she was glad he did. Now Laurel could keep quiet about him.

Amara padded out of the room and picked out over the staircase. Through the little window she could make out Jimmy's face.

"It's Jimmy. I'm leaving now."

Laurel waved her off and Amara grabbed her purse and left.

Jimmy smiled at her warmly. "You look beautiful." He told her.

She thanked him and happily took his hand when he stuck it out to grab. She still hadn't chosen and she hadn't talked to Curly in a week. She thought that was best, since she was just stringing him along right now. But she missed him.

After all the French cuisine – which included "escargo", which she found out was snails, Amara craved a burger. When she found out what was in sweet breads, she wanted a bucket. They were anything but bread. When the waiter – who happened to be in a _tux_ – handed them the bill, she wanted that damn bucket even more. There was no way she could let Jimmy pay for all of that, she had been fine with him taking her out, but this was too much. But Jimmy wouldn't take a cent from her.

Amara stood in the gym with Cherry and Kathryn and their dates. The music was blasting but no one she was with was moving yet.

"Do you know what sweet breads are?" She whispered to Kathryn, who had shown up with Freddy. Amara was choosing to ignore that. "The _pancreas_ of a lamb. Well the one I had was."

Kathryn laughed, causing her to choke on her punch. "Amara! Of course I knew that. Don't be vulgar."

She _knew_? Rich kids were odd, they ate stuff like that no problem. That was probably the most disgusting thing she was ever told and Kathryn knew and ate them on a regular basis.

Jimmy wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her hip. She smiled up at him but it wasn't sincere. She figured coming here with Jimmy would make her choose Jimmy but the dinner was horrible and the dance had been slow. Jimmy wasn't a big dancer.

"I'm going to go get drinks." Amara had already had a drink; that meant she wasn't invited to join. Freddy left with him and Kathryn left to catch up with Marcia. She rolled her eyes, she just wanted to dance.

Cherry eyed her. "Are you not having fun, Amara?"

"Not really." She sighed.

Cherry pointed to the gym doors. "Maybe it's because you asked the wrong person."

Entering the gym was Curly Shepard with a petite girl clutching onto his side. She wasn't really bothered by the girl, she didn't expect Curly to come alone if he indeed did show up.

She looked Curly up and down and she grinned. He was still just in jeans and leather boots. He hadn't put on a tux and tried to be someone else. She liked him just that way. Amara couldn't picture him in some lame suit. He caught her gaze and nodded. Her smile widened.

She came here with Jimmy, she would feel bad if she just let him down because she had asked him.

"I can't go to him, can I?" Cherry just shrugged, but she had the hint of a smirk on her face.

"I'm just saying, Jimmy's not doing it for you. Maybe he will."

She was right, Jimmy wasn't doing for her. At one point Jimmy was exactly what she wanted. She wanted a popular socialite boy who would treat her nicely. Jimmy did just that and he had a sense of humor, too. But hanging out on the other side had changed her idea of what she wanted. Curly was rude and he was sarcastic, but he was fun, different and spontaneous. She could trust on Jimmy always but there wasn't a flame.

"Its crowded, no one's going to notice if you go talk to him." Cherry added for encouragement.

Amara thanked Cherry and pushed her way through the crowd trying to find the greaser on her mind. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who didn't dress up so he didn't exactly stick out like a sore thumb. She managed to pick him out of the crowd, though.

"Curly," he turned around and there was a smirk on his face. "Hey."

"Hey, doll." He released himself from the girl clinging to his side.

"I want you to know that I don't want Jimmy, I want you."

He raised a brow. "That so?"

She nodded.

"How do you know I want you?"

"I don't." She said. "You could just be playing games with me and this could all be a joke, but I don't care. I don't want Jimmy. I want you."

The girl he came with watched, confused, but didn't butt in.

"You're snarky and rude and a total pain in the ass but for some reason I like that." She knew she was smiling.

"I have no idea why." Curly chuckled. "But I'll accept it."

She laughed too and he pulled her in for a dance. The girl that came with slowly disappeared into the crowd and they danced along with the other kids to the Stone's "Ruby Tuesday".

"Are you still goin' to that party after?" Curly mumbled over her head as they danced. She nodded.

"I have to tell Jimmy. I should get back to my friends soon, too."

He agreed. "Don't go kissin' him goodbye or anythin'. I don't share."

She let her eyes roll but she laughed. She waved goodbye and made her way back to where everyone had been standing before. It wasn't just Cherry anymore, Laurel and Heather plus their dates had joined.

"Where were you off to?" Laurel questioned her.

"I had to go powder my nose." She lied. Laurel accepted it.

Jimmy appeared and threw his arm over her shoulder. "All the boys want to head to the river bottom now, you ladies up for it?"

They all decided to go and piled out the gym doors.

Amara got into Jimmy's car and they started to drive. She figured now would be the best time to tell him; they were alone and there was no way to cause a scene.

"Tonight was fun." Jimmy said. It had been fun tonight, but not because of him.

"Listen, Jimmy. You're a nice guy and all, one of the nicest I know. I just can't see this going anywhere, it's not what I want." She said. There. It was all out in the open.

He was quiet for a moment. "Is this because I wouldn't dance?"

She shook her head and he sighed.

"Alright if that's what you want."

"It is." He nodded and the rest of the ride was completely silent.

They got out of the car and immediately went in different directions. When Amara was far enough away, she glanced over her shoulder. He was with a group of his friends and he was laughing along with them.

She just really hoped she was making the right decision.


	19. Chapter 19

**Love the reviews guys! Sorry for being such a shit uploader it's just I update on mobile so I just dread posting and always put on off. Enjoyyyyyy**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER NINETEEN<strong>

_i'm not saying it's your fault,_

_although, you could've done more _

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><p>Curly was no stranger to stealing things like hubcaps off of cars and neither was the gang. This was only different because they had never done this as a <em>thing<em>. They all had separately stole car parts and sold them, but they had never went out as a group and stripped a car down to the bone. Curly could understand why. It was risky, and with more of them out there it was easier to be seen and eventually get caught.

"Look at the beauty." Steven said in awe. He was pointing at a baby blue Ferrari. Steven had always had a thing for those.

"I ain't gonna be so pretty once we get our hands on it." Ricky laughed, joining into the conversation.

"I can't believe I'm goin' to be tearin' that thing apart soon. It just don't deserve it, man."

Curly scoffed. "You better believe it, Steven. We need the money."

Tim had only sent Steven, Ricky and Curly to do this job. Curly, because he had come up with it and the others because they were just stupid enough to do this and get away with it. Curly was fine doing this with them, it'd make it a hell of a lot more discreet since the group was small and the boys were easy going. He hated doing things with the older boys; he didn't like being watched.

"Let's tear into these douchebags rides."

He was acting like he was cool with this. He was cool with this, but he still felt bad. What if he was ripping parts of Amara's friends' cars right now. No doubt he would end up stealing off one of them at least. He hoped he wasn't that Cherry chick. She seemed to know the score and it was cool of her to not judge him or Amara. If he was going to rip off anyone around here he hoped it was his bitchy tutor or Jimmy Dawson.

The mustang Curly was looking at now at quite the nifty eight-track player inside. Curly had a bunch of tapes but he only had a radio inside his car. The eight-track wouldn't bring in much coin, but it would help Curly out if he could control what he was listening to. He decided on taking it. A souvenir for a job well done because he _had_ racked up money elsewhere with other parts. Quickly, he fumbled around trying to remove the player from the car.

"Hey, Curly. There's people coming. I think we should leave while we're ahead." It was Ricky talking, so Curly ignored it. Ricky was the newest to all this shit and he got a bit anxious. Curly was getting this eight-track player.

"Shit. Curly. They're heading over here." It was Steven this time and that made Curly take them somewhat seriously. He fooled around trying to remove the device swiftly. He heard the boys' boots hit the pavement hard and fast. That could only mean they were running. Curly yanked the player out from the car and ran after them.

Not without catching a glimpse of who was coming his way. Two girls. The first one, he had no sweet clue who she was, but the girl in the blue dress was surely Amara. And if he could tell that was Amara, she could tell that it was him.

He ran faster.

He hoped into the back of Steven's Commander alongside all the parts they managed to knick. He was relieved when he looked back and saw that Amara was only a tiny blur.

Curly was a screw up that was for sure. He got the girl, then he stole the eight track from her friends ride. Not really how you go about keeping the girl.

"That was a close one." Steven chuckled and swivelled his neck to look back at Curly.

"What did you get anyway?"

"Eight-track player." Curly smirked as if he was proud.

"Nice." He nodded.

The boys drove around and dropped the stuff off to Tim and the other boys who were waiting at the warehouse. Tim had to organize everything and figure how who wanted what that he could sell it to.

"You guys did good. This'll bring in a pretty penny. You guys can go to Bucks or somethin' we'll take over."

Curly was overly happy when Tim said they could leave. He wanted a drink of something strong and he probably should talk to Amara, if she wasn't seething mad at him. It was most likely best if he didn't go out and seek her, he'd let her cool off and come to him.

Amara showed up at Buck's just like Curly thought she would. He wondered what led her here; did she ask around for him again or did she just take a wild guess. Either way she had found him. She didn't look angry though, if he could give her any emotion it would be frustrated. She was frustrated. Angry he could deal with, anger was easily calmed down and usually just needed a couple of whispered promises before everything was alright _or_ it led to some great sex. Frustration meant disappointment. Curly Shepard didn't handle disappointment well, even if he was always bringing it upon people.

Amara boldly pushed her way through he sea of people and soon she was face to face with him at the bar.

He figured she'd say something but Amara stayed quiet as she sat next to him. She even ordered a beer, which surprised him the most. Ever since that night with Tim, he hadn't seen her drink once.

"Curly, you're makin' this as hard as it can be." She sipped on her beer slowly, a chuckle escaping her lips.

"What do ya mean?"

"I tell you I choose you, then what do you do?" Her tone was light and playful; she wasn't made at all. That confused him. "You stole my friends eight track."

"In my defense, I had no sweet clue who owned that damn thing. I was kinda hopin' it was Jimmy's to tell ya the truth."

She nodded and downed the rest of her beer. "Heather's pissed. That's the girl you stole from, by the way."

"Rightfully so." Curly said. He'd be pissed if the same thing happened to him. "Are you mad?"

"I was. But then I realized, I said I wanted you, didn't I? I know what you're like, what you're into but I still told you I wanted you. I can't back out now. I don't like it, but I'll deal with it. You're not off the hook. I'm pissed. I just want you to know you're not scarin' me away yet."

Amara was level-headed and calm, and despite what he did she seemed happy. He had expected her to barge in on him and yell and scream and they'd fight and she'd leave. That's how things worked in all his other "relationships". That could be fun, but right now he was glad he didn't have to deal with it.

He pushed a stray hair away from her face and leaned into close enough for kiss her; damn he wanted to kiss her. It wasn't anything new but it was different now that he didn't have to share her. He was a damn fool for letting that happen in the first place.

Amara happened to be the one to close the distant, all too eager to kiss him too.

"Let's get outta this place," Amara mumbled against his lips. "It makes my head hurt."

He happily obliged and they left the roadhouse together.

"What's the stupidest thing you've ever done?" Amara asked and it made Curly laugh. He liked to think he wasn't as stupid as people thought but he did a lot of idiotic things. The two of them laid in the pan of the truck. He had taken her up to the hill, it was a regular spot for couples to going make-out but Curly wasn't a usual. Most girls he hooked up with were up for just getting dirty in one of Buck's spare rooms. Amara wasn't one of those girls and he didn't exactly expect her to be. A hill filled with other teenagers seeking a heavy make out session or hook up wasn't the most romantic spot out there but it was as sappy as he was willing to go. He wasn't going to go home and set up rows of candles; no matter how much he liked the girl. That just wasn't him and Amara had never minded his truck before. Things didn't seem to be getting hot nor heavy, though. They had laid in the pan and talked for the last half hour.

"Uh, I climbed a telephone pole once."

"That's odd but not necessarily dumb."

"Ah," He added. "But I fell off that damn pole and broke my arm. It hurt like a bitch."

Amara's giggled into his ear and he couldn't help but grin. He was sort of embarrassed about that but if it made her laugh, he was fine with it.

"What about you, Miss Priss? You ever do anythin' stupid?"

"I tried out for cheer back in sophomore year, I was holding some girl up when we did this pyramid formation and as the girls climbed on top, they kept pushing my skirt down until it actually fell to my ankles. In front of all the cheerleaders and the entire football team."

"That's plenty embarrassing, doll, but I don't think it's dumb. And I'm sure the football team didn't mind."

"You obviously don't know how unskilled I am at cheerleading. I shouldn't have even tried out."

Curly was amused by her story and he was honestly surprised she wasn't a cheerleader. She striked him as one of those overachiever types. She indeed was, once when they went on a drive she started doing an essay that wasn't due for a week. He couldn't see her being bad at something. She had strived so hard to be popular and socialite worthy, being an under average cheerleader didn't exactly fit into that character.

"Then you'll have to show me your cheerleader moves."

She shook her head, now leaning over him. "No way."

Right in the pan of his truck, Amara rolled on top of him and she was kissing him roughly. Her hips bucked into his and his fingers were entangled in hair and boy, was he enjoying it but as soon as it had happened, it ended. Amara's warm body was now fidgeting to straighten out her clothes and hair.

"Shit, shit, shit." Amara swore, jumping out of the pan. He was confused but followed her back into the cab.

"What's wrong?" She hadn't been upset three minutes ago, her mood change had happened quickly. Maybe they had gone too far or too fast – he hadn't meant to, and she was the one who initiated everything. She could have possibly given him a signal to stop; he tried to think back but his mind came up blank. He hoped he didn't make her feel like she had to do what she was doing.

"I'm sorry if I made you go too far- I didn't think…"

"No. It's not that. Eleanor's here with Anthony."

He understood now, this was all still a secret. She might have chosen him, but they would still have to sneak around and pretend they didn't know each other whenever a west sider showed up. He thought maybe she had gotten over that, she had come to him at the dance after all. This pissed him off to a new level. He didn't want to sneak around anymore or hide, he liked her and he wanted to show her off like boyfriends were supposed to. He didn't want to have to stop kissing or even just holding her god damn hand because Eleanor Cohan or any other fucking Soc turned up.

"Are you serious?" He stared at Amara with narrowed eyes.

"You thought I was going to tell them?" She was soft, quiet, as if she felt bad for him. He hated it.

"That's what I thought, y'know. But I guess I was wrong. I just so damn sick of hiding us. We're a real thing now, or so I thought. I don't wanna hide anymore, Amara. Its bullshit."

"Curly…"

He turned on the trucks engine and back out of their parking space. "You're ashamed of me. Don't say ya aren't – ya are. You're ashamed of who you are and what you like and that's pathetic. I don't tell Tim I like to watch movies, shoot me. You're hidin' a lot more than that, doll and I ain't gonna deal with it."

He realised this was the second ultimatum he was giving the poor girl, but she was so frustrating. She lived this fake life, full of fake friends and a fake her and he was allowed into it – but only in secret. That was bullshit and he'd be damned before he let that happen. He was nobodies dirty little secret. He didn't want someone who was ashamed of him and who he was in. Amara needed to know she was either all in or all out. There was no in between.

"They're gonna hate me." She was pleading with him. Her big green eyes were watery and he hated seeing her like that, but he wouldn't back down. Shoot, but how he wanted to. He didn't want her to cry.

"Baby, I know." He said in a more understanding tone. "But you can't expect me to be your dirty little secret."

"I know." Curly took a sharp right.

Amara's house was now in view and he really didn't want to drop her off. He wanted to say it was okay, that they continue as they were but that was just tearing him up. He wasn't good with secrets. But he wanted her to stay, he wanted to kiss her again. He honestly didn't know if he would kiss her again – Amara was so sought on keeping up her image; she might not choose him. He hadn't considered that possibility until now, but it was a likely one.

"I can't do that." She said. It was firm; final.

"Goodbye." He told her and she got out of the cab. He tried to ignore the tears running down her face.

Curly had always been a push over. He was with Tim, his buddies and he was with Amara. That was going to stop.


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks for the reviews you lovely people! Sorry it was sad, sorry I like sadness**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY<strong>

_when you ain't got nothing, you got nothing to lose_

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><p>All the next week Jimmy tried to talk to her, ask her why she said and did what she did. She didn't have answer for him, at least not one he would appreciate.<p>

She had called Curly eight times since the Sadie Hawkin's dance. He hadn't once answered. She wasn't too fond of being on the receiving end of the silent treatment. Amara hated how shallow she was and she wanted to do what Curlys asked but she couldn't bring herself to. She had tried once, the Monday after the dance but it was unsuccessful and she said she only brought up what they thought out greaser boys because she heard Minnie Winter was into one – a total lie but it turned out to be true. Amara felt bad after that. People had started to ignore Minnie now as if she had the plague. Minnie seemed happy, though. She walked the halls freely now, with Terry Jones' arm thrown lazily over her shoulders.

She wished someone would just rat her out – of course, she had more on the line than Minnie but they were in the same boat. Amara didn't have the courage to tell on herself, if someone else did it for her, she'd be forced to deal with it. Curly would probably still be pissed at her, since she couldn't do it herself, but there would be no more hiding.

She shouldn't even be worrying out this so much, there were other important things going on like college applications. She'd applied to almost any school she could think of that accepted women, even ones she wouldn't be able to pay half the tuition to. She just wanted to put it out there.

Minnie walked past Amara's locker, giggling with Terry. She couldn't imagine how that girl could be so damn happy after she lost all her friends.

Amara slammed her locker door shut and stomped off. She was envying Minnie and she wasn't allowed to. Amara could be with Curly if she wanted to; it wasn't Minnie Winter's fault that she was a coward.

She saw Curly in the crowd of people heading to class; he turned away when their eyes locked. She was learning how he felt every time she pulled something like this. It was toxic just how much stuff like this happened, but she didn't care about that, she really wanted to save whatever they had.

She was sitting at a table at Dairy Queen and she must have chewed her cheek raw with the nerves she had. Surrounding her was Heather, Kathryn and Laurel. The only person missing was Cherry, and that's who Amara was waiting on. She needed a support system. Cherry might not even take her side in public, Cherry had similar fears as Amara, but at least Amara would know Cherry didn't hate her for real even if the rest of the girls did.

"I'll just go order while we wait for Cherry," said Kathryn. She pushed herself out of the booth. "What do you girls want?"

The two others told Kathryn their orders and when it got to Amara, she wasn't hungry at all. She didn't think she could even stomach a small fries.

"Nothing, I'll just have a water."

She hated water. It didn't have a taste but it was calming to her and probably the only thing she could keep down.

"I just bought the cutest Chanel dress." One of them said. Amara wasn't paying attention.

They babbled on and Amara was completely lost in thought. This better have been the right choice. She knew deep down it was the right choice. She'd been lying far too long.

The bells over the door chimed and that brought Amara out of her head. She glanced back and Cherry was heading towards their table.

Amara had been hoping she could put it off longer but she couldn't. If she didn't do it now she never would.

"Hey Little Girl" by Elvis was playing over the fast food joints speaker. She watched her friends faces pinch up at the music choice but it made Amara smile and made her slightly more at ease, it seemed as if this was a sign of encouragement.

"Girls." Amara said, calling attention to herself. She got a worried glance from Cherry but the rest were clueless.

Amara froze up. She had no idea exactly what she was supposed to say. How should she word it? She clammed up.

"I'm in love with Curly Shepard." Amara said. She hadn't meant to be so blunt about it but the nerves got the best of her and she just blurted out what came to her head first. She couldn't believe it. She hadn't even admitted to herself she was _in love_ with him neither her or Curly had talked about that.

It was completely quiet expect for the faint lyrics of the song that have given her courage in the background. Now, it seemed to be taunting her.

How could she have just told this group of girls that she was in love with Curly? Was she even in love with him? She had never thought about it until now. She guessed she was – why else would she jeopardize everything she had for him. She was in love with Curly Shepard.

Kathryn choked out a laugh. Her eyes were condescending. "You're joking."

Her tone was so harsh, so judgemental that Amara wanted to laugh and say that it was all a sick joke, she had been bored. But it wasn't a joke and she had come this far. She couldn't back down now.

Laurel scoffed. "Amara, don't pull this kind of stuff. It's not funny. As if we'd even believe you, you just broke up with Jimmy a week ago. You can't be in love that fast."

Amara couldn't stand Laurel sudden know-it-all attitude; she was the one that fell for boys too fast and too hard, not Amara. Laurel had defiantly claimed to be "in love" after a week, the girl said it after one date.

"This isn't a joke." Her eyes narrowed at the girls she considered good friends. "I'm in love with Curly Shepard and I live on 37 Elm. I'm not rich. My dad works at the factory. I don't own a thing of Chanel and you've seen my car."

It was dead quiet. It seemed as if her words needed time to sink in before anyone could react.

"Let's go." Kathryn stood first, followed by Laurel. Heather stood up, but she didn't give Amara the disgusted looks that the other two were. She didn't even look Amara in the eye.

"It's a good thing Jimmy got out while he could. Amara's been slumming."

Tears pricked Amara's eyes, but she wouldn't cry over their nasty comments. She was expecting this. It was just shocking how fast they turned on her.

"First Minnie, now you. Girls really can be such whores."

"Kathryn, Laurel- shouldn't we hear her out? I mean, it's not her fault who she likes." Cherry tried to help, but it was doomed from the start. Neither of them were going to hear here out, they both knew that.

"Cherry don't stick up for her. If she learned how control herself she wouldn't be in this mess. Plus, she's a liar. A trampy liar." Laurel smiled sickly-sweet and headed to the door. Amara sat in the booth by herself. Cherry gave her a couple sympathetic looks, but she didn't stay. She followed the others out the door.

Amara was completely alone. A part of her held onto the hope that they had been friends so long, this could be somehow overlooked and dealt with. She had just been naïve.

Amara left the Dairy Queen and hopped into her car.

When she first started driving, she had been sad. But as she got closer and closer to Opal and Curly's house; she was angry. It was his fault everyone turned on her, he had placed an ultimatum on her and manipulated her to do this. All because he didn't want to keep it a secret. His little inconvenience had cost her every friend she had.

She knocked on his front door. Hard.

The thought that he might not be home, or other people might be slipped her mind. Luckily for her, Curly answered the door.

"Amara." He didn't look impressed to see her. He was still keeping up his "pissed off" act.

She glared at him as demeaning and condescending as she could. It probably didn't have the effect she wanted. "I did what you wanted me to."

"What?"

He seemed genuinely surprised that she actually did it. She was surprised she did, too – and angry.

"You're an asshole," She said. "I hate you."

"What- Amara, you don't mean that."

She didn't hate him. He was right, she just wished she did.

"They all just turned on me, as if I was never their friend. They said terrible things."

She pushed herself into the house and she noticed Curly shut the door, there must have not been anyone else home if he was willing to let her blow up at him inside with no objections.

"It's all your fault? Why would you make me do this?"

She shoved him backwards; hot tears streamed down her face and she knew her mascara was running but for the first time ever she really _didn't care_ what she looked like.

"I hate you." She mumbled again, but it wasn't as convincing anymore, even to herself she sounded desperate.

He didn't respond, he didn't say a single word; he wrapped Amara tightly in his arms and she let the tears fall onto his shoulder.

"I didn't mean it. I don't hate you." She was even quieter now. If her face hadn't been so close to his ear, she was sure he wouldn't have heard it.

"I know, doll. I know." He said softly. She liked how he didn't yell at her for coming here and blaming it all on him, though he had every right to. She liked how he just held her. She was just used to the snarky, hotheaded Curly Shepard. She liked how he was now just fine. She needed it.

Amara lifted her head from his shoulder and wiped her eyes; there was black on her hands. Weirdly, she laughed at it. She probably looked like a deranged raccoon right now, but it didn't matter. She no longer had a hefty image to keep. Though, she still wanted to wipe it off.

"Can I use your bathroom to clean up?" She said, slightly embarrassed she had just sobbed on his shoulder. He didn't seem to mind.

"Yeah, follow me."

He warmed up the water and put a face cloth under the faucet then handed it to her. She gladly took it and swept it over all the places black streaks had over taken her face. The hot water and steam it was emitting felt nice on her skin; refreshing. Curly leaned on the doorframe, watching her intently. That itself reassured things would be okay. The way Curly was treating her, and how freeing it was not to have to lie anymore made her feel she made the right choice. Everything was going to be okay. Just like Curly said it would be.

She turned to him again and she smiled. His brow raised and a smile creeped onto his face, too.

"What're ya smilin' at?"

She didn't answer, she just walked over to him and kissed him. All that anger she had been feeling was long gone. He wasn't to blame, she had gotten herself into this mess and at some point she would have to get herself out of it. Curly had just sped up the process.

She jumped into his arms, still kissing him. Curly brought her to his room and laid her down on his bed.

She really did love him, she was sure of that. She loved his brown eyes, she loved his hands and how good they felt on her body and she loved how gentle he had just been with her even though she was acting crazy.

She was kissing down his neck and her hands roamed his body. He groaned. "Amara, if you keep kissin' me like this I ain't gonna want to stop."

"You won't have to."

He was surprised, she could see it on his face but she knew he wasn't going to complain. He pulled her under him and everything escalated. Amara didn't mind, she was sure with him. She wanted to be with him. So, she let his hot touch and heated kisses consume her.


	21. Chapter 21

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

_life strikes a deal with the coming night_

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><p>For the past four weeks Amara hadn't left Curly's bedroom for more than ten hours before she was back. She only either left because her parents were getting worried or Curly had gang stuff. Other than that, the two were exploring his wonderful Spencer's Special bed sheets. It had happened so quickly, not too long ago the girl was afraid to let him put his h<p>

ands up her blouse; now she was jumping into his bed whenever she had the chance. He was not complaining, he was more than happy, he just hoped it was because she actually wanted to and not because she felt like she had to because she was lonely.

When he had forced her to either choose her socialite friends or him, he hadn't expected it to be this hard for her. None of the girls had talked to her since, or even stepped off their damn pedestals to look her way. If she wasn't with him Amara had no place to be. If she felt sex was keeping him close, she was wrong. He wanted to be there. He had no real idea why, but he cared whether or not she was hurting.

Currently Amara was pressing feather light kisses down his chest, until Tim barged in the door.

"Get your ass outta bed, kid." Tim didn't say anything. He walked out of sight; Curly could hear his boots descending the stairs.

"I guess that's my call." Curly pulled on his jeans and there was a slight pout on Amara's face. He ignored it and followed Tim.

"What're we doin'?"

"I gotta go to one of those hippie houses, kid. But I ain't goin' alone. I hate those places."

Curly went to those places alone sometimes. You could earn a lot of money from just on visit, so if he was feeling tired or just not up for scouting people out; hippie houses were his go-to. He could see why a guy like Tim wouldn't like a place like that, shoot, Curly himself hated them but he could sense it would be worse for Tim. Tim Shepard liked order and direction. Everything their gang did was organized and even anything Tim did alone was organized. He wouldn't even slash a guy's tires before thinking of and plan and every fault and circumstance that could happen. The hippie lifestyle was the opposite of anything Tim believed in. The people practiced "free love" which Curly classified as just screwing whoever the hell you want to screw no matter who or what they were and have no strings, they liked drugs, and they had weird antics that Curly couldn't even explain.

Curly grabbed the keys to his beat up Ford, if he was depriving him of getting laid to go to some damn hippie house, Curly was driving and Tim had no say.

The place Tim had told Curly to go to was a place he visited regularly, he knew a lot of their names, that ones that stuck around anyway and he knew his way around it.

The place was covered in says like "don't let the man keep you down" and "war is not healthy or children and other living things", flowers, and colorful splatters of paint. One of them told me the paint was to show whatever they were feeling at the time. Curly just saw ugly drops of paint.

"Hi, Curly. Did you come to share with us?" Her eyes were glazed and she talked as if she was far away as she always did. He never saw her once not doped up.

"Willow," he said. "Yes, I did. Tim here has everything you need."

"Right on." Willow nodded. He didn't like how these people acted they were too calm. It was unnerving.

Tim handed her a couple grams of pot and tabs of LSD. She gladly took it.

"Thanks, man. This is great. Drop acid not bombs, y'know?"

Curly had never seen Tim look so blatantly uncomfortable but he looked at Willow like she was crazy and he couldn't wait to get out of here. Curly stifled a laugh; he knew laughing would only earn him an earful from Tim.

Curly patted his brother on the back. He was slightly happy seeing Tim so out of his area and how he was handling it better than him. It was a sick satisfaction.

"Let's get outta here." He said, done torturing his older brother.

When Curly returned home Amara's car was gone and so was she. He flung his jacket on the rail and went to the kitchen, other than Tim no one was home. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and went to watch some television.

Not too long after, there was a knock at the door. "Tim, get the damn door!"

Tim said nothing and Curly sighed and went to get the door.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked. The person on the other side of the door happened to be Cherry Valance. Curly couldn't think of a reason she would be on his porch.

"Um- I'm looking for Amara." She appeared nervous, but he could tell she was trying to not show it. This wasn't her part of the city.

"What do ya want?"

She fidgeted with her hair and skirt. She was nervous. "I was looking for Amara. She wasn't home. The only thing I came close to finding her was you."

His brows furrowed at the girl in front of him. "What do you want from her?"

Cherry was squirming. "I need to talk to her. It's important, I need to get some things out in the open."

Begrudgingly, he told the broad where to find Amara. He wasn't fully sure but the girl seemed sincere about her intentions. He wouldn't expect that kind of girl to go egg Amara's house or anything. If this girl wanted to talk to Amara, he'd let her. He had met Cherry before, she seemed okay. And as much as she tried to deny it, she missed her old friends. She was lonely and she wasn't as happy as she had been before. Curly wished he could be all she needed but the truth is he couldn't, she needed a friend.

"If you're gonna harass her on go hurtin' her in any way I suggest you don't even go near her, ya hear?"

"I hear."

The redhead walked off his porch and jumped back into her corvette. It zoomed down the street and Curly slammed the door shut.

Unexpected visitors seemed to be the norm today. In front of Curly was Mark Jennings. The boy had his hands thrown lazily in his pockets and he was slouching, he looked at ease; as if he came there every day. The boys got along in public, but they never actually hung out. They clashed too much for that, so Curly Shepard had no idea what the hell Jennings was doing on his front steps.

"How's it goin', man?" Mark said and it came so natural from his mouth, anyone would have thought they were old buddies.

"Same old," Curly gave him a nod. "What're ya doin' here, Jennings?"

"Tim home?"

"He is, why you want 'em?"

Mark stayed quiet and Curly refrained from rolling his eyes at the guy. He came to his door, not the other way around. Least the guy could do was answer his questions. Unenthusiastically, he went and grabbed Tim. He figured if Jennings was coming to Tim for help, the poor guy needed it since he had been so against it before.

Tim came out and looked at Mark the same way Curly had – wondering why he was even here. After a couple look-overs, Tim seemed to think everything was alright and talked to Mark.

"What do you want, kid?" If this had been a year ago, Tim would've been delighted to see Jennings on their porch. But Tim didn't like being rejected and once you had rejected him, he never had much interest left in you. Mark had said no to Tim's proposals and since then there hadn't been much talk of the guy from Tim's mouth.

"Is it too late to take you up on that offer ya made me?"

Without even looking at his brother, Curly knew he was looking at the other boy as if he was as stupid as a rock and if Tim were the type, he would've laughed.

"I made that a year ago. My outfit is just fine without ya, Mark."

"You boys are sellin' dope right?"

"I ain't gonna answer that." Tim said, roughly, and started to shut the door. Mark boldly pushed against it.

"Look- you know my momma, right? She's in the hospital and shit, we just can't pay for it. I'm desperate, man."

Tim shut the door tight and stomped away. It was times like this Curly really hated Tim. How he could care so much for his own mother and just let another go to debt when they were coming to him for help, he could never understand. Curly could still see Mark's outline through the curtain when he made his way back to the living room. He wanted to help him, but it was out of his hands so he just sat down watched the The Good Guys like nothing ever happened.


	22. Chapter 22

**I love you guys, please check out the prologue to the YMMR sequel: Four Letter Words, its on my profile! Guess what? Only four more chapters left... omg.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO<strong>

_ain't got no backbone, ain't got no spine_

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><p>Seeing Cherry Valance at her door wasn't something Amara had planned to see today. But now she had and the rich redhead was sitting on Amara's old couch. It was her grandfathers and it was from the thirties. She kind of wondered what Cherry thought of it. She had never been insecure about what Cherry thought of her stuff before; Cherry didn't say anything about it so Amara tried not to overthink.<p>

Cherry had been fidgety since she showed up and only calmed down the slightest when she made her some tea, Amara wondered what was up but Cherry wasn't quick to say anything at all.

"I'm sorry." Cherry blurted out after minutes of silence. It was the only thing she had said other than 'can I come in' and 'yes, I'll have some tea'.

"I shouldn't have just written you off. I hadn't wanted to. I just didn't know what to say or do."

Amara wanted to make the girl grovel for forgiveness or something of that sort but she couldn't because Amara, if put in the same circumstances would have chosen Laurel and Kathryn's sides if the situation had been reversed. Definitely not now that she had lived with the shunning and ridicule, but before- she wouldn't have even batted an eye to keep her status.

"It's okay, Cherry, I understand." She really did get it, and she appreciated the apology and the female company.

Cherry nodded. "Though the tea was nice and I really did want to apologize to you, but I also wanted to explain some things."

Amara couldn't think of any other reason why Cherry had gone out of her way and shown up at her house. The apology made sense but nothing else she could come up with added up to be a legitimate reason why Cherry would be there.

Cherry played with her skirt hem so more. "There was something bothering me and your confession brought it to light."

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused.

"I'm in this situation and I don't know what to do." Cherry was quiet, almost as if she had said it under her breath.

"Cher…?"

"How did you do it?"

Amara's face pinched up. "Do what? You're making no sense."

The other girl sighed. "Tell them. You had so much more to lose than me and I still can't tell them. There's this guy, Ponyboy Curtis, do you know him?"

Cherry was not the last person Amara could see frolicking on the other side but she wasn't the first either.

She had heard the name. He was in her gym class and she had heard the name on the announcements plenty of times. He was a couple years her junior, though.

"No, not exactly. But go on…"

"I met him at the movie house. It was nothing back then, one of his friends flirted with me, then a couple of them offered to walk us home. Do you remember Bob?"

Amara nodded, Bob would be hard to forget. He was obnoxious when he had been alive and the way he went out had been the talk of the town for what seemed like ages. Amara remembered vaguely seeing Ponyboy and his friends in the paper.

"I had become friends with them. I even testified for them, but in school I don't meet even one of their eyes. I was embarrassed. My reputation would be soiled. Now, there's you. I can't be seen with you for the same reasons. I want to get over this - caring what others think. How did you do it?"

Amara shrugged. She didn't know how she did it honestly. "I don't know, I just realized I needed to stop lying to myself and I needed to stop hurting the ones who truly cared for me."

Cherry put her head in her hands. "What do I do?"

Cherry had nothing close to the amount of stuff to lose as Amara. All Cherry wanted to do was have some greasy friends, she wasn't dating one, she hadn't lied about about where she was from. She was also Cherry Valance; she was rich and loved by all. Her opinions would be accepted. She might lose the respect of Kathryn, or maybe Eleanor but it wouldn't be as tough as Amara's confession.

"If you came to me, you already know what you want to do. You got me." Amara smiled, despite slightly envying her for having someone on her side. But maybe Amara had someone now too. It would be nice to have someone other than Curly.

"You wanna go for a bite to eat?" Amara offered. If Cherry was going to come out and tell the girls she wanted to be buddies some random greasers and Amara, who betrayed them, she was going to have to get used to this side. She would be spending an awful lot of time here once the only people by her would be Amara or Curtis- might as well get her used to it.

"I had plans with Marcia." Cherry seemed embarrassed; ashamed almost. Marcia had blown off Amara just like Kathryn and Laurel, or even worse because at least the others liked her to begin with, Marcia had always disliked Amara and now had a reason.

"Oh," Amara said, slightly sheepish. "That's fine. Call me, for sure."

"You know what?" Amara glanced up at Heather again; she had a small smile on her face. "I'll just call Marcia and tell her to meet us there."

They had went to Jay's. The Dingo- which seemed to be the last place of "greaser territory" there was, had burned down a couple weeks ago. Ever since those boys died, things had been changing, but the Dingo burning down was almost forcing both sides of town together. Jay's seemed the only place now not filled with socials. It was mostly the regular kids, the ones that didn't have too little or too much. Greasers had been coming in more frequently after the fire, though and even a group of rich kids would wander in from time to time.

Cherry was nervous one of her south side friends would walk in. Amara was nervous; she had been gnawing her cheek raw. She hadn't seen Cherry in a month, neither of them had said a word to each other since Amara told everyone the truth. She had been angry as hell at Cherry for ignoring her but she was still happy for her to show up.

The chimes rang above the door and this time Amara's gaze followed Cherrys. Her old group of friends stood at the door, looking as beautiful as ever with smile plastered on all their faces. Kathryn annoyed her the most; if she had looked a bit worn-out or worried maybe Amara's anger towards her wouldn't have flared up but she looked perfect. The excitement of seeing her friend again had faded as quickly as it had come. Amara had been deserted the last month, it had been expected. For her to walk in here with such confidence rubbed Amara the wrong way.

"Girls." Was Kathryn's greeting.

Amara rolled her eyes. "Kathryn."

"Amara, I see you've been spending too much time on the wrong side of town. You're starting to get the snotty behavior." Kathryn was snobby and collective. The words themselves seemed as if they had just slipped out of Eleanor's mouth.

"Why would you say that?" Cherry said, Kathryn didn't seem the least bit bothered.

The bells chimed once again. Two girls stepped in. On top of Kathryn and Laurel, Heather and Marcia walked into the diner. Cherry shot Amara an apologetic look, but that just made Amara angry.

The two others slid into the booth, Amara tried to ignore their demeaning stares.

"What's she doing here?" Marcia looked down upon her. Amara tried to convince herself that it didn't bother her. But this girl had been a friend at a point. Not a close one but a friend. She was never going to get used to the disgusted sound in all their voices towards her.

"That doesn't matter right now, but if you must know I asked her to come." Cherry spoke.

The words just seemed to fall out of Cherrys mouth but it was rushed. Amara had believed Cherry had this easier; these girls were not her only friends. But it wasn't that simple and Amara felt foolish for thinking it was. These girls had been her friends since she could walk. These girls were important to her and it would be just as hard.

"Just give up, Sherri," Laurel said, as if this topic didn't even matter. "You're always so nice but she's a _liar_. She's no good."

"Exactly." Marcia said. "Just leave her be, it will never be the same."

Cherry looked conflicted; her eyes flickered from Amara to the other girls. She hadn't said anything in awhile.

"Can't I be both your friends? I want to give her a chance."

It was quiet. The girls soaked in Cherry's proposition.

"No." Kathryn said suddenly. "You get rid of the grease, that's the only way."

"I can't, please understand." Cherry pleaded.

Kathryn would never understand. Kathryn was rich and beautiful. She never even ventured off to the other side of the tracks. She could have any west side boy she wanted, she never thought about anything different. She would never understand what it would be like to be a little different and Amara felt bad for her. She was never going to step outside her bubble, like most stuck up Soc girls.

'I'm sorry,' Cherry mouthed. Amara nodded, she was angrier than ever before. Cherry had gotten her hopes up, just to back down.

It was as if it was déjà vu, the girls piled out of the restaurant but this time, Cherry lagged behind.

"I'm sorry for everything, Amara." She looked almost sad.

The door of Jay's slammed shut, Amara was already in tears before the bells stopped chiming.

At home it was quiet, which was odd since Amara's parent's car was out front indicating at least one of them was home. If it was her dad, the television would be on, if it was mom the radio would be blasting. But she walked into the kitchen and they were both sitting down at the table.

"Sit, Amara." Her dad said almost softly in contrast to his usual rough tone. It worried her and she did as she was told.

Her father's arms were crossed along his chest and her mother's brow was furrowed. They both looked stressed, which they did a lot these days.

"We've got bad news, honey."

Her parents never seemed to have good news lately, but she told them to go on.

"We're struggling right now and if you aren't offered a lot of financial aid, you can't go to university."

"I have some money saved up." She desperately threw in. She did have some cash saved, she had quite a bit too- before last week. Her car broke down and there was some hefty repairs. Curly had offered to go steal the parts, but Amara had opted for the legal way. Now she had wished she had taken up his offer.

"You know it's not enough." Her father said. He was a realist. She wished he wasn't.

"I'll take extra shifts at the Safeway."

Her mother frowned. "You're already working five days a week. More wouldn't be healthy."

Amara felt like she had been kicked in the gut. She spent all four years of high school working her ass off studying and at the Safeway because she just wanted to get into college. She had all A's and she was in the running for valedictorian; second best to Christian Dixon. If she was just going to be at community college, all her hard work had been for nothing.

Amara wasn't clueless, she had applied for scholarships and financial aid and researched loans, but there was no guarantee on those things. She could only pray.

The acceptance letters and information would be sent any day now, she could only hope for the best. And if this was her only problem, she realized she had it pretty good.

"Are you okay, hon?" Her moms eyes were full of sympathy. She was good at that, sympathy. That's probably why she was such a good nurse.

"I'm okay." She gave them both a nod and lightly padded out of the room.

She had the urge to call Henry once again, but he had gotten the change at an amazing school; calling him knowing his strolling around or just sitting in his dorm wouldn't bring comfort. She decided against calling him. She'd been doing that a lot lately.

Instead, she went to bed at six in the evening on a Tuesday.


	23. Chapter 23

**Three chapters left! If you haven't go check out the summary for Four Letter Word, the sequel. Feedback? Xx**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE<strong>

_all the walls around us, let them fall to the floor_

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><p>He hadn't heard much from Amara lately. She was at his place every day then suddenly it was only once a week and she was around, she was always tired and a fucking mope. She must have been like that for two weeks now.<p>

She was sure being a damn mope this afternoon. Amara sat on her couch, her legs propped up and she huddled around them, just staring at the television. She had hardly said anything other than casual small talk. He hated small talk.

She had called him over here to finally meet her olds, he thought maybe that's why she had been off the past two weeks, she was nervous about this. But when he got here she was acting the exact same. He'd be pretty concerned if it didn't piss him off so much.

"When will your parents be home?" He wrapped his arms around her neck and pulled her closer. She nuzzled into his neck and let her legs drop. At least she wasn't mad at him, whatever it was. He hated the quiet though.

"An hour." She said dully.

He let his eyes roll, knowing she couldn't see him.

"Doll, what's wrong? Jesus, you've said like three words the past two weeks. Not to mention you're always leavin' and don't come back till dark."

He didn't think she was cheating. At least it had never crossed his mind until those words fell out of his mouth.

Her lips pursed. "I'm not cheating, if that's you were you're thinking."

Her words were tense and he sensed a fight coming it was like how air was humid right before a thunderstorm, you knew it was coming.

"I wasn't sayin' that, doll." He shook his head. He wanted her to talk but he didn't want her hollering at him.

"_Obviously_, you were." Amara was giving him attitude which was just as odd as the silent treatment. So was the crying that happened right after.

"I'm sorry," She apologized. Her voice was soft and she seemed fragile. "I've been working overtime at the store. I've been so stressed and not much fun, hey?"

She kind of chuckled and wiped the tears from her face. Not even another tear dropped.

"I can't go to college unless I get a full ride and that's almost impossible. So I've been working a lot. My dad lost his job."

He was surprised that she hadn't mentioned this to him, he felt this was something you tell your man but he didn't say anything to her; Curly wasn't the best at healthy relationship dynamics so he wasn't one to talk.

"Shit, Amara." Curly wasn't sure how to handle this type of thing. No one he knew was too bothered by not going to school. There was factory jobs and gangs. His people didn't really want to get out.

Her parents walked into the house and saved him from saying anything stupid.

"Mara, we're home." Said a woman.

"Where's that boy ya brought us?"

The second one to speak was Amara's father he assumed. He was a built man, tall too. He had a real rough accent, he must have been from the Deep South. He looked like one of those dad's that would shoot you if you hurt with their little girl. He never messed with one of them before.

Her mother was still dressed in her hospital clothes. She seemed a lot happier than her husband because she was smiling warmly at Curly from across the room.

At this point, Curly was clueless on what to do.

"I'm Curly, ma'am." He shook her mother's hand and then her fathers. "Mr. Robinson."

He had been told by Steven you should introduce yourself with as much manners as you can muster up. Curly hoped his attempt was good. It had to be for anyone to let their daughter date some hood.

"Call me Aaron," His hand shake was long and firm. "-and my wife ain't too fond of ma'am, makes her feel old. Call her Helena."

He swore he saw Amara roll her eyes but Curly managed a grin. "Aaron, you've got a beautiful daughter on your hands."

"Yeah I do, so you better keep your dirty hands off her, ya hear?"

Amara defiantly rolled her eyes now. Curly chuckled. Fathers were so easy to wind up, the only thing he knew from his dating experiences. But it was all just talk and if you were good to them and their little girl, they liked you. You share a beer with them and watch sports, you're their new buddy. Mothers were the ones you needed to watch out for; their opinion actually mattered.

"We picked up some food from Safeway, it's always odd goin' in there and not seeing you, Mara."

"I work every day now. I can see why it'd be weird."

Aaron frowned. "Too much work isn't good for you. You should be keepin' your grades up."

"They are up. I tutor Sylvia, too and I'm on the council. All I do is go to school and work."

Aaron eyed Curly while Amara was speaking, as if he was saying he was a distraction on all the great things Amara was doing. Curly didn't feel bad; people needed to be social, too. They needed someone on their side.

"Let's go eat." He said gruffly. It was obvious he didn't like Amara disagreeing with him.

Supper wasn't too bad. A couple snide remarks from the old man but Amara's mother always managed to shut him up. Amara was laughing as her mother pulled out an old picture of Amara as a toddler, he liked hearing it again.

"Oh!" Helena Robinson yelled abruptly. They all turned and glanced at her. She had four letters in her hand now. "Amara, I don't know how but I almost forgot about these."

The woman slid the envelopes over to Amara. He watched Amara read the labels and he saw the corners of her lips turn up.

"Letters from colleges?" She sounded so excited he had to smirk. She was so passionate about school, it baffled him.

Almost viciously, she tore into the letters in front of her. Her smile never left, it may have gotten wider.

"They're all acceptance letters." She grinned. Her green eyes were as bright as ever. "I've been accepted to Oklahoma State, Stanford, NYU and Arizona State."

They were such a random selection of schools and they were all so far away, except Oklahoma State which was still over an hour. It finally clicked to Curly that if she could, Amara would be leaving. There was only a month left of high school. California and Arizona were on the other side of the country and New York wasn't remotely close. But she was so excited so he never opened his mouth.

"Stanford sent me forms on financial aid; they've agreed to give it to me."

She looked excited but Curly was anything but.

"I just remembered Tim needed me around seven. I gotta go. I'll check you later, okay, doll?"

He said something along the lines of 'nice meeting you guys' to her folks and they said something about his name clicking once he mentioned Tim. Curly even heard his father's name from one of their lips. When that happened, he made his way out with even more haste. Amara would be suspicious of him.

He started up his truck and happily left Amara's house. Her parents seemed nice enough but the way they asked him about his dad and Amara talking about Stanford rubbed him the wrong way. There wasn't much Curly was actually sensitive about but his old man and his girl moving half way across the god damn country were tense topics.

Tim didn't tell Curly he needed him but it turned out he did. Tim was at the warehouse with just Dean, going through some boxes. It seemed normal.

"Curl, Jesus. Great timing." Tim said with slight approval.

"Pass over those other boxes I wanna make sure those shits didn't fucking rip me off."

Curly didn't protest and brought over six other boxes to the tables. He was curious to know what their contents were but wasn't enough of an idiot to take a peek before Tim gave him the OK.

Dean and Tim started laying weights and baggies downs. When Curly saw white powder still on one of the weights he knew what was going on.

"What the fuck is that?"

Tim cocked a brow. "Coke. Got some heroin, too. God damn Tigers were movin' onto our turf and sellin' the heavy shit we didn't have, Dean fixed that little problem."

Pot, Curly could deal with and LSD hadn't even been illegal when they started selling that shit. Heroin and coke were heavy and people got hooked on that. He'd experienced it with Nancy, it was against everything in him to sell the stuff Tim had gotten now.

"I ain't touchin' that, fuck that. That could give me a life sentence."

Tim shook his head, he was smiling but Curly knew that smile; it was menacing and it meant Tim was close to snapping. It wasn't Curly's intention to tick Tim off, but he couldn't sell hard drugs and be cool with it. He wanted to stay away from that shit.

"Stop bein' such a pussy, Curly. We need the money."

Curly knew 'we need the money' meant Tim needed the money for his kid that was on the way; it had been code since Tim let Curly in on his little secret. It was true, a pretty penny would go a long ways but Curly didn't know if it was worth it.

"That's some sketchy stuff, Tim. Could get us in a crapload of trouble."

Dean was giving him a look and Curly knew what it meant. He was giving him the green light to back down, Dean always gave Curly that escape route. Curly was too obsessed with pleasing Tim to ever take him up on it.

"We're always in trouble and I'll be damned if I let Eric Riley and his outfit start movin' on into our territory."

Tim's word was final. Either Curly was going to back down and sell or he was going to leave the gang. Tim knew Curly would never leave. But he fucking wanted to leave.

"You're good with those fucking flower child's, bring some to them."

"Those hippies aren't really all that into heroin, that's for junkies, man." Curly told Tim. It was true; not many hippies used heroin as their vice from what Curly had seen. But if they were low, they were desperate enough for anything.

"Then ya better go find yourself some junkies."

Curly decided if he was giving it to people that were already hooked and saw no problem with being hooked, it couldn't be morally wrong. He tried to convince himself this anyway. But in that back of his mind he knew he wasn't all right with this. Nancy was a junkie and he sure as hell knew feeding her habit would he completely wrong no matter how much of a bitch that broad was. How hooked they were didn't change a damn thing.

Despite what Curly said, he ended up at a hippie house anyway. He told himself that hippies were different; this was a way of life for them and he was in no position to judge a person's way of life. He had left behind the heroin, knowing that they wouldn't be pining after it. He had brought the coke, though as well as the usual LSD and pot.

Like always, he met up with Willow. He wondered why she was here all the time. From his knowledge, hippies weren't known to stay in one place, it was outside their beliefs. But Willow was always here.

"Willow." He greeted. She nodded.

He noticed she seemed odd, he thought these people were odd but Willow just didn't seem like herself. She was shaking; he noticed this as he handed her the drugs. Her tiny fingers had been shaking so much she almost dropped the baggies he had gave her. She also never said a thing about war or free love. The only thing she had said was 'thank you' after he had passed her everything. The only thing that was normal was that she was completely out of it.

"Are you alright?" Curly asked, putting his arm on her shoulder. She jumped at the contact.

"Stay away from me." She sounded scared and he was confused.

"They're coming for me." She whimpered, still shaking viciously. Her eyes were glazed but they were also full of tears. Willow really looked as if she believed someone was coming after her.

"They say that it's time to go, maybe they're right."

Curly had heard of bad trips but had ever seen one; Willow was fucking scaring him shitless.

Her eyes shut tight in a haste. There were tears down her cheeks.

"Don't touch me. Don't touch me. Don't touch me." She kept repeating and didn't stop. She was making Curly uneasy; she was acting completely crazy. Jesus, he hated drugs.

"Listen, it's just me, Curly." He tried to be as soothing as possible. He laid his arm on her shoulder again. Willow flinched this time but she didn't say a word about it.

"I'm going to bring you somewhere safe, ya dig?"

He managed to get a real nod from her. Willow tried to stand herself but her legs fell from beneath her. Frustrated, Curly picked her up and shoved her in the back seat of his truck. She wouldn't stop yelling from the second she hit the seat. All Curly could truly make out was 'don't hurt me, I don't want to go'. Curly wasn't sure what that quite meant but it fucking gave him the chills thinking about it. He blasted the radio to drown her out; but he kept his eye on her through the mirror. He wasn't sure what could happen with these drugs and he didn't want her dying in his backseat.

He got Willow to the ER and some doctors took her. They said they had been seeing this a lot lately. That made Curly guilty, he had been selling a lot more lately. He didn't know how he was going to handle this.

He found a quarter and dialled Amara's number into the payphone down the hall.

"Hello?" She said. She seemed happy now and he was glad to hear it right then.

Once he found out Willow was fine, he headed home. There was a girl sitting on his doorstep and for once it wasn't Nancy. Amara was there, soaking wet from the rain. He had called her at the hospital and she had said her goodnights and told him she had headed off to bed. But she was here sitting on his doorstep in a drenched night dress.

"What're ya doin' here?" He cracked a grin.

She smiled, her voice was soft. "I said I was going to bed but something seemed off so I came here."

He had thought he had covered up any sense of guilt or worry he was feeling but he guessed he was wrong now. Maybe she was just good at feeling him out.

"You look like a drowned rat, doll." He told her and her eyes rolled.

"I don't really care. Now tell me what in the hell's bothering you."

He did tell her. He got her a shirt of his and some warm milk. He hated warm milk but she had asked for it. He then told her all about Willow and his drug dealing; how it wasn't just pot anymore. Amara had just nodded along, sipping her milk.

"Don't do it." She had concluded at the end of his speech.

"It's not that simple, Amara."

"But it is." She sat up to look him in the eyes. "You don't have to listen to Tim all the time. This isn't something you agree with then screw it. Screw it all."

When he had met Amara she had been closed off and afraid of showing who she was; he had believed he was the better person because he wasn't hiding everything. But Amara was far surpassing him now, she had no secrets and now happily did as she wanted. Curly was now the one just following everyone else and Amara was giving _him_ a lecture on screwing what everyone else thought.

"Tim's my brother. It ain't as easy as just dumpin' a few friends, Amara."

Her eyes narrowed. "All my friends, Curly. Every single one of them. You have friends and you have me and you'll still have your brother."

"I'll be lettin' him down. I can't do that, he's family." Curly argued.

"He's not gonna stop being your brother because you let him down. He's probably let you down before."

"God damnit, Amara. You just don't understand!" His voice was raised and she flinched backwards. He immediately felt bad.

Amara frowned but nothing more; no tears or yelling back. "Then help me understand, Curly."

"Family is important to me and you never know when you might lose 'em."

He explained to her he liked to keep his whole family proud of him in some way or at least not let them down. He told her about his dad. Charles Richard Shepard Sr., Curly was named after him. It was usually the first born who got that title but Ma was against having a Junior and took some wearing down for his dad to get a kid named after him; four years of wearing down. He mentioned that his dad had passed away.

His dad's death is most likely the cause of what made Curly such a follower of Tim. His dad had asked Curly to go fishing with him, at fifteen Curly hated fishing. It was tedious and uneventful, Curly was all for seeking a thrill. His dad knew Curly hated fishing but his buddy had cancelled on him and he hated going fishing alone, something about the water always got to him despite his love of fishing. Curly had plans with the boys to go drag racing down on the strip. They had even fought about it for a bit before his dad just let Curly be and loned the fishing trip.

Two days later, he remembered it vividly, he was at Steven's house passed out on the couch after a night of heavy drinking. The phone rang. No one answered it. Ten minutes later it rang again and Stevens mothered picked it up and called out to Curly. His mother was on the other line. He didn't even know how he made out the words she was saying through her wailing and sobbing but he did. His dad was dead. They had found his body washed up on the side of some lake. They say he fell over the boat and hit his head. He had drowned.

He sucked up to Tim so much now because he didn't want the same thing to happen again. He was so strung up on Tim specifically because he didn't have a father figure to be proud of him anymore; Tim was the second best thing. It didn't even cross Curly's mind until now that Tim may have been taking advantage of that.

When he stopped talking, Amara had tears dripping down her cheeks and for some reason she was pulling at his sleeve. He looked down at his arm. She had his sleeve tugged up to where 'Charles' was scrawled across his arm in bold, dark cursive.

She didn't seem to care about proving her point no more, she crawled into his arms quietly.

"You are perfect, I don't care who you think you need to please but you don't." Her voice was only a notch above a whisper.

He remembered what Amara had said about him being warm when she was drunk and it sort of made sense now. Amara was defiantly warm, if anyone ever was.


	24. Chapter 24

**Two more chapters! ObscureAlternatives you're my fav**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR<strong>

_trouble finds trouble_

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><p>Things were starting to be okay again. Her dad had finally gotten the job Uncle Bill had tried to hook him up with weeks ago and Amara had been accepted to all the universities she wanted to go to. Stanford had even offered her quite a bit of financial aid, not any way a full ride but with work in her family picking up again and her picking up every overtime shift she could- things were looking up. She and Curly were doing well now, too. There was no her just being a downer for no reason and he came and visited her at work sometimes. He got bored often, and she caught him with his nose in a racy magazine once or twice but the company was nice.<p>

Curly had a lot of things on his plate recently, too. He hadn't confronted Tim yet, but he said he would. And if Curly wasn't near, he was probably getting tutored by the devil herself because finals were close. His mother still wouldn't let Amara tutor him, but she _seemed_ as if maybe she was warming up to Amara a little. But she wasn't selfish, she knew Curly and his mother's relationship had been rocky and they had to patch things up completely before his mother should even think of putting her focus on Amara. Angela had been coming around here more, though. Amara hadn't minded, she liked the fire that girl had. It was also nice to have someone in Curly's family take a liking to her.

Things were slow this Saturday night. She expected it, she knew when there wouldn't be many people and she always came with something to occupy herself. Tonight, it was only a couple newspaper puzzles.

"Ring me up, buttercup." She didn't have to take her eyes off her crossword puzzle to know who that was.

Deon O'Brien he had said his name was. Said he was in a gang. She had seen his crown tattoo poke out from under his sleeve a couple times, so she knew what one. He had eyes like two silver coins. He came in here on the regular and always bought the same thing; two egg sandwiches and a Pepsi. She found him quite funny, but he also unnerved her. Amara believed it was his eyes that did that; they were grey and felt like they were peering right into your soul and made you take him seriously even when he was telling a joke.

"Why do you like these sandwiches so much? Can't you make one yourself?" She huffed, ringing him in. It was in good nature, oddly, he resembled a friend.

"I don't think your boss would appreciate ya givin' customers ideas like those."

"I think my boss is rich enough that he can risk losin' the sale of two egg sandwiches a day."

Deon shrugged, grinning down at her. "Ya never know."

"You should come to a party with me after ya get off, Amara. You don't seem to do much."

She would have been of offended if he hadn't been right. She did nothing and now she was starting to _look_ like a girl that did nothing.

"Deon, you know I have a boyfriend."

He smirked. "Not like that and you know it. I got myself a fine girl already."

Amara did know it, he had told her that's who he always bought the second sandwich for. His girl worked until seven and Deon got to Safeway almost six-thirty on that dot every day, ate and chatted up Amara. At ten to seven each night, he took off with the other egg salad sandwich in hand, Pepsi undrunk.

When he had first mentioned it, she had told it was chivalrous of him. Deon didn't come back for two nights after that. When he came back on the third night, he said he couldn't have people thinking things that could ruin his reputation. He was quite a character.

"You know what?" She said. "Yeah, I'll go."

Amara felt she should have probably checked with Curly first before going off with a bunch of his rivals, but she wanted a good time.

Deon's girlfriend Vivian was gorgeous. Amara expected it, Deon didn't seem the type to settle for anything less. Vivian wore a tight skirt and seemed to like blue eye shadow, maybe a bit too much. She cursed a bit and snapped her bubble gum. She had dark blue eyes and was a bottle blonde. She was the type of girl that belonged on the rough side of town. Vivian reminded Amara of Sylvia, they both had that attitude that they knew they were worth something. Amara had always admired it.

"Take a right and bring us home, Deon." Vivian had demanded with a snap of her gum.

"What? Why?" He asked, obviously just wanting to get to the party.

"This one needs a change of clothes that I doubt she has in her own closet. I can't take her to Ray's lookin' like that."

"She's fine, Viv." Deon almost whined. Vivian gave him a look and a raised brow and the car was turning right.

Amara felt like Vivian's play toy but she didn't really mind. She had put Amara in the smallest skirt she had ever wore and put on more make-up than Amara had ever wore altogether. She even curled her hair, to Deon's dismay who was not in any way trying to hide his disdain for Amara's makeover; the boy wanted to leave.

"Well, don't you look like the real sex pot?" Deon grinned and Amara found herself laughing at him.

"Shut your trap." Vivian hollered at him, still picking at Amara for final touches. "You are a pervert."

"Just try'na boost her confidence. Viv, ya know you're the apple of my eye."

The corners of Vivian's lips turned up but she pulled them back down quickly. "Let's go, ya candyass."

Amara thought they were an odd couple, but she liked them together. It was light and they seemed as if they could be best friends, despite the teasing.

She found out Ray was the second in command for the River Kings and everyone there seemed to have the infamous crown tattoo. That's when the guilt set in; she was actually out partying with the enemy. She didn't think anyone there knew she was dating Curly Shepard so she pretended to be unbothered.

This wasn't like Bucks and it definitley wasn't like any Soc party she had ever been too. It was too rowdy to fit into either category. Ray's house was packed with people, Amara could hardly move yet people still insisted on dancing and jumping around. She couldn't hear anything other than laughing and the hum of music in the background. There was beer bottles and glasses covering the floor and everyone had a buzz; Amara had two jack and cokes then cut herself off. She didn't want a repeat of Buck's with Tim, she didn't want to be that sloppy and out if it again. Once you got past three drinks, it wasn't even fun. She had found that out the hard way.

She was out of her element, but she was still making an attempt of having a good time. She joined in the dancing and singing along, and even had one more drink, equaling three. The atmosphere was cordial and relaxed for a house full of dangerous gang members.

Around eleven, she tried to ring Curly on the kitchens telephone but there wasn't an answer.

"You need a ride home?" It was Ray. It seemed to be a sincere offer and it beat walking or a cab but she felt it would be crossing the line. Ray wasn't an enemy of hers and he appeared to be an amiable guy, as amiable as a gang leader could be.

"That's fine, I'll just try my boyfriend again."

He nodded and grabbed another beer out of the fridge. "Don't be shy. I suppose Curly might be a tad pissed."

Ray left the kitchen as nonchalantly as he had come in. But his voice had given her chills. Maybe Deon truly didn't know who she was or who she was associated with, but she wasn't as discreet as she thought she was. Amara had realized she was too comfortable with everything, she should watch her back more. It never exactly clicked to her she was gang by association, she was part of them just by dating Curly. To other gangs she could be seen as a weakness to take advantage of. She got lucky that none of these guys did anything or screwed stuff up with Curly and Tim. She needed to stop being so trusting.

Quickly as she could with her shaky hands, she dialled Curly's number again. He picked up this time. She had asked him to come get her at Willie's Convenience. It was a block away but far enough from the center of Kings territory she wouldn't drag Curly into something he wasn't prepared for. She didn't know what was on those guys' minds and she didn't want to start anything. She also added she should bring her a change of clothes; no doubt that he had some belonged to her at his house.

Amara scrubbed off most of the blue shadow and red lipstick in a bathroom she found. Her eyes wandered the sea of people for Viv and Deon, she wanted to say a goodbye. But there were so many people that they all just blurred together. She gave up.

Amara stepped out into the night, it was chilly and the skirt didn't cover much. Neither did her blouse, really. The wind pinched at her skin as she walked.

She couldn't say for sure over the clicking of her heels, but the sound of footsteps behind her was getting louder. She picked up her pace without even turning her head back to check; she didn't need to be _sure_, she needed to be safe.

When she was in the parking lot of Willie's she took a glance; two boys in leather jackets. Curly's truck pulled into the lot. The boys whipped out blades. Amara's heart dropped.

The boys stepped under the street lamp and Amara was relieved to see that Deon wasn't one of them. It wasn't Ray either. One of the boys had white-blonde hair and a menacing smile, the other was a brunette who was intimidating just by his height.

Curly stepped out of the truck, with a coolness rolling over him. He seemed calm. She noticed Steven and Ricky came out behind him; they both had switches. Curly didn't, that wasn't unexpected to Amara, Curly constantly talked up his punch and plain 'ol skin to skin fighting. He always said he didn't need a blade until he _needed_ a blade. She never understood what he meant by that.

Curly turned to take a quick look back at Amara; he looked disappointed. She hoped she seemed apologetic. She was.

She hated watching fights, not to the point where she was going to yell out 'stop fighting, I'm scared', she knew the score; that just pissed the boys off more than anything. She just turned her head and tried not to pay attention to the sounds of someone getting a hard blow. Tonight, Amara couldn't just turn her head, her sight was locked on Curly, every move he made and which blade was coming near him. This was all her fault – she could have just walked to his place or home. If he got hurt, it was all on her this time.

She was beyond nervous, but she was sure he wouldn't get hurt. Ricky and Steven were there; it was in their favor.

But it was wrong, jesus- she was wrong. The blonde one, with the smile, he took a cheap swing with his knife as Curly threw a punch to his friend. Blood, she could see it pooling onto his white t-shirt. She swallowed her scream and held back the urge to run to him just yet. The sounds of sirens hardly interrupted her thoughts; the other boys ran off before the fuzz arrived and Amara collected herself and went to Curly's side. He was hissing and holding the cut, but other than that he seemed fine. She ignored his eyes; this was her fault.

Amara somehow calmed herself down enough to push his hand away from the wound and examine just how bad it was. It wasn't overly threatening, but the blood was gushing out of it rapidly.

She tore of a slice of his shirt and pushed down on the wound. "Keep putting pressure on it. Steven, drive us to my place."

Amara tried not to pick at Curly as they drove to her house. She knew he wouldn't appreciate, not a bit. It wasn't his first time getting hurt this bad, he could handle it and it would be embarrassing to have your girl fawn over you in front of your buddies. She kept her hands off him and didn't coo or ask him if he was okay _too_ many times. Though, she wanted to. She distracted herself by slipping on her dress that Curly had remembered to bring. It was harder than she had thought to get the clothes that Viv had put on her off. She had to ask Curly for help with the zipper.

"Why your place anyway?" Steve took his eyes off the road.

"My mom's a nurse. She'll stitch him up."

When they pulled up to her home, she remembered she had whiskey on her breath and it must have been an hour past curfew. Then there was also the fact she was bringing her boyfriend home for the second time, right after he had gotten hurt in a knife fight. Bringing him to her mom wasn't the brightest idea anymore.

Amara did it anyway. She might get in trouble for a night, but Curly needed stitches fast and he wasn't trusting Steven and Ricky to do the job. She had seen makeshift stitches before, boys just poured rum on the wound and needle and went for it with whatever thread their mother had laying around. She had refrained from babying him but she was _not_ letting that happen.

"Ma?" She said softly; the living room light was still on and she prayed it was her mother and not her father still up. Her father would holler and yell, her mother was much more reasonable. Amara would feel guilty if she had to go and wake her mother up after breaking curfew.

"Amara, you're very late…" Helena Robinson padded into the hallway in her night gown and slippers. Amara knew her mother well enough she would have been embarrassed by that on normal circumstances but she must have seen the blood.

"Glory," her mother's eyes were wide. "What happened to him?"

The three boys all gave her sheepish expressions. Her mother muttered something underneath her breath and grabbed Curly by the arm and pulled him gently onto the couch.

She started stitching him up. She had stitched up Henry a few times but not because of anything worth mentioning; a busted knuckle here and there, Henry had never been much of a fighter.

Stitching Curly up involved more blood than all Henry's injuries altogether. She even heard her mother swear a couple times when Curly dripped blood on the couch. She had chuckled at that; Curly had seemed so ashamed.

"You're all done." She said and Curly pushed himself off the couch.

"Thanks, ma'am."

She nodded. "Now, you boys head on home and get to bed, ya hear?"

Amara followed the boys out to the door. The guilt had come back and she wondered if Curly was angry at her – she couldn't see why he wouldn't be.

"Are we alright?" She spoke quietly.

"'Course we're alright, doll. I ain't gonna leave ya just because you were an idiot one time- you'd be long done with me if that were the case. I'm pissed, though."

"I didn't know- I had this friend Deon and-"

Curly stopped her, his brow furrowed. "You're friends with Deon O'Brien?"

"Yeah, he stops by work a lot. Got to know him."

This didn't seem to please Curly any more than her being with the River Kings did in the first place. He had a worried expression.

"Have ya seen anyone else stop by I might wanna know of?"

She racked her brain of who had stuck out to her. Not too many people; grocery stores were mundane places filled with average people.

"Eric Riley." She remembered. "Not too long ago."

"You're fragile." Curly muttered to himself.

Amara took offense. "Excuse me?"

Curly paused, as if to collect his thoughts. "When I dated Nancy everyone knew not to screw with her. She had cousins in the Tigers and a brother in my gang. It wasn't worth it. You're fragile to them. They think they can scare you and maybe get to us."

Amara shook her head. "I think you're being dramatic. I saw Eric once- he even bought something. Deon is a good guy."

"They usually don't try anything," Curly continued. "They just wanna spook ya enough maybe we'll call them out and start a rumble. It happens to Steven's girl Maggie all the time."

Curly gave Amara a brisk kiss and left without another word. Amara stood in her hall alone, her hands on her hips, staring at the spot where Curly had been with narrowed eyes. He hadn't even given a proper goodbye.

Behind her, her mother was almost in the exact same pose, though her glare was aimed at Amara.

"Is that boy in his brothers gang?"

As a teenager, you think that your parents are completely and utterly clueless to what's going on behind their backs. Her mother knowing about the Shepard Gang was news to her but she couldn't be all that shocked. Henry had stopped hanging with Tim only just awhile after Tim started getting heavy into it. Maybe her mom knew all along.

"Amara Gladys Robinson, answer me."

She cringed at the sound of her middle and last name following her first. That meant her mother was serious and Amara was already testing her patience.

"Yes." Amara panicked and could not for the life of her come up with a lie- so she had spit out the truth.

"I was friends with Charles, good friends. He would not have wanted this."

Her mother sounded soft and her face was full of sadness.

"That boy needs someone, Amara but I don't know what kind of mother I'd be if I let that person be you."

Amara couldn't argue or lie into getting what she wanted, her mother was right in what she was saying. No parent in their right mind let's their teenage daughter date a hood and not one mixed up in a gang.

"Tonight wasn't his fault." Amara said. It was her last plea. "I went to this party and I called Curly to come pick me up. It turns out that some of the people at the party were rivals of their gang and they followed me to jump him."

Helena nodded and she seemed torn. "Him just being in a gang puts you in danger. I know you can't separate a girl from the man she loves- my ma tried to with me- but it just creates a disaster."

"But, Amara, just think about yourself and your well being."

Her mother left the room then. She muttered something like 'oh and I can still see your make-up' and climbed the stairs and disappeared. Amara planted herself on the couch and flicked on the television. Amara was not spooked easy and maybe that's why they decided to take things into their own hands. She had genuinely thought Deon had been a friend to her. But you never know on the rough sides of town. It's a dog-eat-dog dynamic; times like this she missed the simplicity of her west side friends. It was unsettling to know people would prey on her to get to the whole, it was unsettling to know what being the girlfriend of Curly Shepard could actually be like. She would have to play it safe from now on, she didn't want to be messed up in this again. It never occurred to Amara that she would be thrown into this stuff dating Curly, she was too naive to think that way. But she had chose him and his lifestyle; she would get used to it. She wouldn't just give up because things got hard. She would work with it.

Her mother had been far more than reasonable with her, she thought it might be because of who Curly was related to. Charles Shepard. She wondered how her mother knew him, obviously since Henry and Tim had been friends since preschool but he didn't attend the dinner parties or get togethers from her knowledge. He must have been an old high school friend.

From then on, Amara would say she was just going out with friends and Helena would always pretend that she didn't know she was actually heading off to see Curly. Her mother turned a blind eye but still dropped cryptic advice now and again, and Amara pretended as if she didn't understand.


	25. Chapter 25

I ended this kinda quick and adrubtly, I realize, but I just wanted it that way. Thanks for all the support. Second last chapter.

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

_you're gonna lose that girl if you don't treat her right, my friend._

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><p>It was May 12th.<p>

Exams started tomorrow and it also happened to be Amara's birthday. She hadn't told him until today and now he felt like a real asshole because he didn't have a thing for her. She had said she didn't want anything, but if he really wanted to please her, take her to Dairy Queen. He was sort of pleased by how laid back she was about her birthday. Amara had striked him to be high maintenance about things like birthdays. Curly was glad she wasn't.

"I'm eighteen," she grinned. "I am an adult."

She laying down on his bed, her head in his lap and her long blonde hair sprawled everywhere. She had just come from a family lunch and she had been overly happy since she walked into the door.

"I accepted Stanford, I think I forgot to tell you that."

She had forgotten. He had assumed she had made a decision, those letters had due dates, but he hadn't pressed the topic much. He tried to ignore it.

"My grandma came to visit, which is unusual," Amara continued. "She gave me some money and a two-way ticket to California to see the campus. I haven't seen her in years, it was odd."

Amara explained how her grandparents were wealthy, but she hadn't seen them since she was thirteen; that was the year her grandfather died. Her grandma was some rich old widow who lived in Florida now. Curly wondered how her grandma could just run off to Florida when she was wealthy and her kid and grandkids were struggling. Amara said it was because her father didn't want help from anyone, especially his stuck up mother-in-law. Curly could understand that.

"When's your trip?" Curly asked, feigning interest and excitement.

"May twenty-third right after the ceremony."

May twenty-third was only about a week away and when Amara came back it wouldn't be to stay. She would be leaving again in a mere month.

Curly couldn't believe he was actually graduating, he was not going to have to continue another year; on May twenty-third he was going to get a diploma in his hand and he would never step foot in Will Rogers again as a student. He didn't know if he was fully ready for that. School was always a place to turn to if things at home got unbearable or Tim was being a controlling dick. That would be gone now.

"I can't believe it. Graduating." Curly murmured, almost to himself.

Amara grinned again. "Neither can I, it's getting so close."

"I don't know how I'm gonna leave you."

Amara had talked about leaving lots but she hadn't mentioned leaving _him_ before. He knew Amara and he knew she was just trying to pretend she wasn't leaving him, but she was. She was going to be on the other side of the country.

"I don't know how I'm gonna handle that either." He chuckled. Amara found her way on top of him.

She was leaving kisses down his neck when there was a knock on the door. Curly got up and peeked through the curtain in his room. If it was one of those damn Jehovah's witnesses he wasn't even going to take the time to descend the stairs. What he saw wasn't much better.

"Come with me." Curly tugged Amara's arm. She was only in his shirt and bent down to grab pants. He shook his head and pulled her along.

Nancy Reynolds never knew when to just admit defeat. She stood on the other side of the door, high off something.

"Curly." Her voice was disorientated and drawn out; it sounded as if she had tried to be seductive but she was too far away.

"Nancy."

At this point, Amara was still tucked behind Curly but Nancy had caught her eye; Nancy's eyes formed into slits.

"I thought you two were just friends. She ain't even dressed."

Curly just shrugged but Amara stiffened behind him, embarrassed. He felt bad for dragging her into this now.

"What do you want, Nancy?" His voice was stern; no room for games.

"Word on the street is Tim has the stuff I want now."

Curly attempted to shut the door, he was not going to sell her drugs, she was doped up enough. Nancy stuck her leg in the way.

"Curly, please." She whined, as if he was denying her water in the desert. Junkies were always desperate.

"Nancy, you know I ain't gonna do that. Go ask Johnny. He's got it."

"Johnny doesn't know about my little habit."

Johnny must of been as dumb and a fucking doorknob if he couldn't tell Nancy was a junkie. She had the tracks and she never made full sense. He had to know.

"I ain't got it. Now we need to get back to where we left off."

Nancy made a growling noise and muttered slut under her breath. Amara stiffened again. He felt like shit.

"Screw off somewhere else, Nancy." He slammed the door shut, not caring if her leg was still there or not.

"That was degrading." Amara laughed uneasy. Curly copied it, stroking the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I thought she might go away if we seemed busy."

It was a dumb spur of the moment thought, Nancy was vicious and didn't like other people touching what she thought to be hers.

"It's okay."

"How about that burger now?" Curly suggested, not wanting Amara's mind to stick too much on being called a slut.

"Yeah, I'll just go get ready."

Amara took longer than Curly to get ready, which was expected.

Angela barged in the door. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were puffy like she had been crying.

"You okay, kid?" Curly said. Angel just nodded.

"Do you want to get something to eat? I'm starving."

Angela always wanted to be around Curly or Tim when she was upset but she would never directly say it. She would just ask to get a bite to eat or go bowling.

"I don't think so, kid. It's Amara's birthday."

Amara was padding down the stairs, she smiled at Angela. "Of course she can come, Curl. You're payin'."

Angela peered up at him through her lashes, a smirk on her face. The traces of tears were gone and she seemed back to normal.

"Alright, then it's settled I'm joinin'." Angel crossed her arms and looked at him like she was daring him to say no now. He didn't exactly want her to go but he wasn't going to be a ass about it.

"Get in the truck." He huffed and they all left.

Angel and Amara had been getting close lately. He thought it was because Amara, even though she was a god damn emotional teenage girl, was more stable of a person to turn to with problems. Amara was always around and Angela had accepted her a lot more than Curly thought Angela would accept any of his girls.

So when Angela and Amara went to the restroom while he ordered it wasn't all too weird.

But Amara came out and wouldn't even look him in the eye; Angel didn't join him until a few minutes later.

"Somethin' you two wanna share?"

Amara glanced at Angel in way the seemed to urge her on.

Angel gave him a blank look. "I think I'm pregnant."

Curly almost fell out of the booth.

Everyone, including Curly had just gotten over Tim's announcement. Angel had just turned sixteen in April. She wasn't supposed to be having a baby. He knew Angela wasn't a pure little girl, he had caught her in a couple sticky situations- but he hoped maybe his baby sister was still a virgin.

"What the fuck? Who is he? Jesus, I'll kill 'em."

Angel just rolled her eyes and sighed. "It ain't a big deal, ok? Stop being such an idiot."

"Ain't a big deal? Who is he? Should I tell Tim or will you?"

"Don't you even think about tellin' Tim, ya hear?"

Curly managed to calm himself down. He distracted himself with the Stones song playing and didn't look Angela's way.

"Alright, now who's is it?"

Angel hesitated. "Ricky."

Ricky fucking Wheeler. Curly always thought that kid was a flake, but he had started to take a liking to his different personality. But all that went out the door when he knocked up his baby sister. That kid was going to get some beating- and he should be scared shitless once Tim found out. His own gang member shacking up his sister. Curly saw Tim having little patience for that.

Bryon had only cut Angel's hair off and the pair did quite the number on him.

"You gotta tell Ma, at least." Tim wasn't really a concern, he didn't _need_ to know. Though, Curly would like some help beating Ricky Wheeler to a pulp.

Amara seemed to agree with him.

"I think you should tell your mother. It's something she should know."

"You guys are making a way bigger deal than it needs to be. I can just get rid of it."

_Abortion_. Curly would be damned before he let Angel get one of those. They were dangerous; he had heard the stories. His sister wasn't getting cut open by some creep.

He gave Angela the most fierce expression he could and she shut up.

Curly and Amara promised Angela they'd sit outside the room while she told their mother. More or less so the two didn't kill each other.

There was screaming and cursing, and he kept glancing over to Amara to see if she was uncomfortable. She appeared to be okay.

Curly was definitely cutting off sex for awhile, that was for sure. He family seemed to be going through a fertile period.

"I'm calling his parents." Their mother yelled and Angela threw back protests but Mary Shepard stomped out of the living room and into the kitchen and dialled the Wheelers.

The loud voices of Ricky's parents could still be heard as the three teenagers sat at the dining table. Angela seemed more embarrassed than he had ever seen her in his life. She was usually so proud.

Their mother was on the telephone for what seemed like hours before she let Ricky's parents go.

Angela and Ricky were going to have a shotgun wedding.

That didn't sit well with Angela, she was hollering and screeching and throwing things as if it was going to help her out. Their mother didn't say a word; she just sat in the wooden seat with her lips pursed while Angela went hysterical.

Amara went home after awhile, once Angel calmed down. She looked stressed and Curly couldn't blame her. She had just got wrapped up in Angela's affairs and she had to handle the biggest one yet. You never really knew what Angel was going to throw at you; she was a troublemaker and didn't care much for anything.

Somehow, the news was carried on to Tim and when Curly saw Ricky the next day in passing, he was sporting a black eye and a crooked nose. Curlys lips had curled into a smirk at that.

**X X X**

May 23rd rolled around faster than Curly ever thought it could. His mother ironed his best clothes and Curly lit up a cigarette to relax. Nerves were getting to him. A chapter of his life was ending and Amara might just disappear with it.

"You shouldn't be smoking," his mother hardly looked up from the iron. "Your asthma."

Curly's lips curled at the motherly concern. He couldn't believe he actually missed her nagging. "It's alright, ma. Haven't had an attack in a year."

She rolled her eyes and muttered something about how he almost died as a kid and how Curly _must_ have a death wish. He chuckled under his breath.

An hour later, he stood in the lobby with all the rest of the graduates. He was in his blue and gold cap and gown and it all seemed a bit surreal. Everyone was chattering and laughing, but the room have off an anxious atmosphere.

Steven came over and threw his arm around Curly. There was a cigarette hanging from his mouth and he was grinning like he was up to something. Knowing Steven, he probably was.

"Steven Janes, put that out right now." Mrs. Barnes snapped from behind them.

Steven gave her a charming smile. "I'm sorry Mrs. B. won't happen again."

Steven was the only one Curly knew who could ever make Mrs. Barnes break her scowl.

"Can't believe we're graduatin', man. Us fuckin' slackers."

"It's crazy, I even passed English."

He gave Curly a pat on the back. "Maggie's lookin' for me. See ya in a bit."

Curly let his eyes roam the room for Amara. He had been here a half hour or so and he hadn't seen her once.

As soon as he had thought of her, she and Christian Dixon walked of the principals office.

She wandered over to him pouting. "I'm not valedictorian. His math mark was a hundred, I don't know he even managed."

He pushed her hair out of her face and stuck her cap on her head. "Don't worry about it. In six hours you'll be in California."

Principal Stevens walked into the crowd and his voice boomed over all the students. He looked chipper today; Curly guessed it was because the biggest trouble makers were leaving Will Rogers behind today.

Amara squeezed his hand as they walked. For once he didn't mind; he even squeezed back. He could feel her excitement just through her touch.

He was beaming at her, but he wasn't sure if it was a joyous smile or grimace of nervousness; this was his last regular day with Amara, his friends, high school. Amara had a future, Curly didn't. After today, he was just some guy in a gang. That made him nervous.

The students piled into the gym and Amara gave him a swift peck before going to her alphabetized assigned seat. The gym was stuffy and filled with proud parents and bored siblings. Curlys own mother was there, Angela had been made to come too.

The graduates set up front closer to the stage where Mr. Stevens handed out the diplomas. He didn't get why they held so much significance; it was just a damn piece of paper. But he was happy he was getting one.

Curly's seat was next to Anthony Sheldon, for once the guy was friendly to Curly when he didn't even have drugs on him. He gave him a pat on the back just like Steven had, as if they were old buds. It wasn't just Anthony Sheldon being out of character. Everyone seemed to forgot their classes and social standings; everyone congratulated everyone. It wasn't something that happened often.

Amara was sitting in the row in front of him, chatting with Val Rockwell. They both were gushing over how they would be studying in California. Val was going to Berkeley, Amara was going to Stanford. They had never talked before to his knowledge but now they were planning trips to San Francisco on long weekends.

No matter how hard he tried to not hear about California, he always seemed to hear about it.

"Hey, babe, you wanna get somethin' to eat after this?"

"I can't, I have pack and pick up some stuff. If you wanna help...?"

She raised a brow waiting for his answer; he took that as she presumed he would say no.

"Yeah, but I ain't goin' and gettin' ya plugs if that's where you're implyin'."

Amara's face flushed but she laughed, as well as Val.

"Curly, you'll be the death of me."

She shook her head and turned around.

Mr. Stevens started calling the names.

He never paid too much attention until Steven went up on stage; he grabbed his diploma and flipped off the crowd before running off back to the seats. Curly clapped and hollered, his friend was a fucking idiot, but he loved him.

Amara caught his eye too. She looked real nice in blue, she always did. She untroubled and cheerful, as if this was the best moment of her life.

Curly wasn't too long after Amara. He grabbed the paper, shook Principal Stevens hand and stared down at the crowd. His mother was clapping and Angela didn't seem too bored. Amara was simpering looking pleased with him.

There was a few more people, screaming and hats in the air. Then just like that, twelve years of his life was over. For a piece of paper and a couple caps in the air.

As fast as everyone had piled in, they piled out with just as much enthusasium. Amara was getting a picture with her parents, and to his dismay, she forced him to get one with her too. He didn't mind as much as he pretend he did.

"Let's go get some ice cream, hey?"

She didn't eat much of her banana split, it was mostly left to him and he had no complaints about that. He waited in his truck for her to pick up those extra things she needed.

About an hour later it was time for her to go home. He didn't want her to go yet.

"Can I come in?"

She hesitated and looked at him sadly. "Sorry, but no. I've got to go now."

She leaned in for a quick kiss but he kept her there longer. It felt weird between them, she would be coming back in three days but it didn't seem like that.

He never asked her to stay or even told her he was bothered by it.

"I love you. I'll see you in three days."

He hadn't seen the I love you coming and before he could even wrap his head around it she was out of the truck and out of sight.

**X X X**

He got drunk that night. Shitfaced drunk. He could barely keep his body up let alone walk in a straight line.

He was so fucking lame. He couldn't talk to his girl about the damn problems so he drank them away.

"You wanna dance, baby?"

Nancy Reynolds never gave up, Curly could give her that.

"Sure." He was pretty sure he heard himself say. He wasn't thinking too clearly.

Through his drunk eyes she seemed appealing again.

He got someone to go put a good song on the jukebox. He must have picked some other drunk or some pansy because he picked The Beatles. Even intoxicated dancing with Nancy to The Beatles made him feel guilty. He didn't stop though.

He didn't stop her from kissing his neck either. He didn't even stop her from tugging him upstairs.

Amara wasn't really his anymore; she belonged to California.

As they were touching, guilt creeped up on him at random points and it made him nauseous.

This wasn't just the self-loathing he felt after screwing Nancy every time before, he was going to hurt Amara. He knew that and he still didn't stop.

He could hear Nancy's ragged breaths and as he started to sober up, they irritated him.

"Get the hell out." He was harsh considering he had complied to everything. She didn't say a word. She dressed herself and left quieter than she ever did in the entire time he had known her.

His head was starting to fucking kill now.

He followed closely behind Nancy; he hoped no one had seen them but he had been so drunk it was doubtful he had been discreet.

He left his Ford at Bucks. He knew his driving limit and he was way past it.

It was times like these when Curly realized why people thought he was dumb- he was too implusive sometimes. It was a horrible trait.

He suddenly felt more nauseous and dizzy. He knew every ounce of whiskey he had drank was about to come up.

He got down on his knees and vomited in someone's rose bush.


	26. Chapter 26

THE END! Four Letter Words (the sequel) should be up the weekend, so not really the end, but a new start. I feel bad for Curly, I'm a sucker for sad boys but Amara? my girl? who gave up everything for him? Why do I do this to myself? Thanks for reading this and following it for a year, hope you stick around for the sequel. Hailey :,)

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><p><em>made up my mind to make a new start,<em>

_going to california with an aching in my heart._

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><p>California had been liked she imagined it. It was sunny and she wasn't too far from the ocean. The ocean had been a pretty sight. She hadn't seen it since she was twelve and visited her grandparents summer house in Florida. It seemed different in California. Much more reckless.<p>

Stanford's campus had been beautiful, too. It was a dream just being able to stand by it. She had managed in her three day trip to find a cheap apartment and put in a couple resumes. Amara was quite proud of herself for being that progressive. She was sure she had even got a tan.

It was nice to be back in Tulsa, she couldn't deny that.

When she had left, she had just sprung the I love you on Curly without a second thought; he hadn't replied and she was mortified. She wanted to see him badly but was nervous of what he might say. It probably wasn't even appropriate to say such a thing when she was leaving for a long time in only a week. She wished she had thought it through before opening her mouth.

Amara dumped her suitcase in her room and said hello to her parents and described San Francisco and Stanford to them. The only time the two of them were out of state were family trips to Florida and when Amara was seven they had taken a weekend to go see a broadway show in New York. Neither of them had even been close to the west side.

After kissing her mom on the cheek, she left again to head over to Curly's.

Angel answered the door, she was smirking. "Amara, meet any hunky California boys?"

Amara wiggled her eyebrows. "That's for me to know and for you to not tell your brother. Speaking of, where is he...?"

"I'm taking that as a yes," Angel laughed. "He's up in his room. Just go on up."

Curly was sprawled out on his bed. The covers were three-quarters hanging off the edge and he was clad only in fruit of the loom boxers. He reminded her of a kid.

"Hi." She greeted. His eyes were closed but she knew he was awake. He snored as he slept and right now he was abnormally quiet.

He rolled over with a sleepy grin on his face. "Hello, doll."

"How was California?"

She had tried to describe it to him- without being cheesy. She talked about the ocean a lot.

"I'm sure gonna miss ya, y'know."

She laughed, happy to hear those words. "You can come with me. I've got myself an apartment."

His face went white and went silent. Again, she felt like an idiot. She hadn't been filtering herself around him lately, now remembering how she had also blurted out that she loved him now she was asking him to come with her- he definitely thought she was crazy.

"Get up! I want to go do something with you." She said too quickly, not very discreetly changing the subject.

He groaned but obliged. Curly hopped into the shower and Amara waited for him on his bed. Moments later, he was back with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

"What did you have in mind?" He picked up a pair of jeans off the floor and wiggled into them. As he did so, a tiny slip of paper slipped out.

"I'll get it." She said and bent down to grab it off the floor. On it was girly cursive and what it contained made her heart drop so much that it physically hurt her to read it.

'_I had a nice time, it was like the old days, just you and me. When you get tired of your good girl, give me a call. _

_-Nancy._'

Amara had to read it three times just to make sure she never interpreted wrong or the words hadn't been jumbled in her head. But there was no other way to take the note, it could only have one meaning and after three read-throughs she knew she had read it right. She didn't even need those read-throughs, the red lipstick print on the back of the paper spoke louder than all the words combined.

Amara let the paper drop loosely from her fingertips.

"What is that anyway?" Curly curiously picked up the note. She watched as he grew pale.

"Fuck."

Amara didn't say a word or move an inch. She had never been cheated on before; she'd never had a serious relationship before. People had told her it hurt but she never understood that. Now she did. She wished she didn't. She must have scared him off with the love topic but nothing could justify it in her mind. It wasn't like her and Jimmy, Jimmy and her had been _dating_, Curly had been a real thing.

Curly stood in front of her frowning, yet he had nothing to be frowning for. He wasn't the one who had gotten hurt.

Amara's eyes burned. "Did you hook up with Nancy?"

He was silent.

"Answer me, Curly."

Again, Curly kept his mouth shut. That was all the conformation she needed. If it wasn't a firm no, it was a yes. He wasn't even trying to deny it.

The tears were blurring her vision but she wouldn't dare let one drop.

"Why?"

He looked confused and guilty, like a puppy.

"You went to California and it struck a nerve because when you came back it wouldn't be to stay," his expression was pained. "I needed to blow off some steam."

Fooling around on her was just 'blowing off steam'. It was then how stupid and immature Curly actually was dawned on her.

"So what I'm hearing is, you cheated on me because I got the chance of a lifetime? Because I wasn't gonna throw all that away for _you_?"

She had thought about it. Over and over again, she had thought about just choosing Oklahoma to be close to Curly. But Oklahoma was never what she wanted and she wouldn't be able to to turn down her dream school for a boy. She loved Curly, she didn't want to be away from Curly- but it was obvious she had made the right decision. If she had given up Stanford and he had two-timed her, it would have been devastating. Teenage heartbreak, Amara was sure she could handle. But, jesus, it hurt like hell.

"No, no, baby. I was upset because you'd be leavin' me soon. I got drunk and Nancy was there..."

Nancy was always there and Amara hated her for it. It was clear to Amara now she would never mean as much to Curly as Nancy; Amara would never have that tight grasp over him like she did.

Curly could say and do whatever he wanted but he ran back to Nancy, no matter what. Amara had always ignored Nancy and her advances, but she couldn't now.

Amara was second best at everything, she wouldn't play the role of second best in her own relationship.

She had only chose to come back after her tour because of Curly. She had wanted to spend an extra week with him before she absolutely had to say her goodbyes. Now, that was pointless and she was craving California again.

"I'm leavin' tomorrow," she told him. Even to her own ears she sounded icy. "And you can bet I ain't gonna be coming back for you."

Amara left him before he could say anything else. She didn't want him to find some way into conning her back into changing her mind. If he was even going to care that much. She had cared so much for Curly and she had thought it had been mutual. But all Amara could picture was Nancy and Curly, kissing and touching and it made her dizzy.

She had tried not to pause to say bye to Angela, she was the last person Amara wanted to see her cry. Angela had been through so much more and was tough as nails, it seemed. Amara wished she was like that.

"Hey, where ya goin'?" Angel was in the kitchen, with her back turned. Amara was confused on how she even knew Amara had descended the stairs.

"I'm leaving. I know you don't like this kind of stuff but I really hope you do okay, Angel. I know you will."

She could feel Curly behind her. It made her anxious. He hoped he hadn't heard her cry. Angel nodded, as if she knew what was going on. She probably did; Amara was probably the last to know and that made her feel like an idiot.

"Doll-" He began. She didn't want to hear anything he had to say. She left.

Back home, Amara made her announcement about her early route back to Stanford. Her parents were surprised but never objected. Amara thought maybe their silence had something to do with the way she had puffy eyes and black tear stains down her cheeks.

Amara had planned on unpacking her suitcase when she got home from Curly's, now she was trying to stuff more in it. She was also filling cardboard boxes with the most important belongings.

Around nine, the phone rang. Amara had let it ring until someone else picked up the phone. For the next three hours after that, the phone had rung once an hour. Her mother had told her it had been Curly. Amara just huffed and kept on throwing things into boxes.

She had always been pushed over by people, Curly had been different, he had made her feel different. She had thought they could've lasted. But with everything going so well in her favor, she guessed this was the universes way of evening everything out. She had to push Curly Shepard out of her mind and be grateful for all the possibilities she had coming at her lately.

Amara wouldn't let some stupid boy tear her down; but she felt like she had been kicked in the gut._ She could handle this, _Amara told herself. She would cry all night, but when she was done she promised herself she would not cry again.

Amara packed all the boxes into her car the next morning, quite early. It was going to be a long drive. The money her grandma gave her would be key for all the gas and food she would need.

She kissed her fathers forehead and her mothers cheek and drove off just as the sun was coming up.

This is exactly what she wanted anyway. Amara wanted a free life, full if warm sunsets and the ocean always close by. Amara wanted to go to school and be a journalist. A snarky, obnoxious gang member had never been part of her picture. She would strive without him; after she hit the road she promised she wouldn't worry her pretty little head about him again.

Curly Shepard was going to stay in Tulsa and Amara was planning on leaving Tulsa quite a nice distance behind her.


End file.
